


Royal Imitation

by stylesdove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ben Solo - Freeform, Blowjobs, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dominant Kylo Ren, Erotica, F/M, Forbidden Love, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Love Triangle, Not what you think, Plot, Plot Twist, Porn With Plot, Possessive Kylo Ren, Poverty, Reader-Insert, Rebellion, Resistance, Royalty, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Star Wars - Freeform, Verbal Humiliation, descriptive writing, kingdom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 204,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesdove/pseuds/stylesdove
Summary: When the rising First Order aren't keeping to their promises and their overthrowing of the galaxy is only considered by the small planets they had demolished or ravaged with war, the wealthy planets who had funded the Order, become furious in their slow pace and begin to refuse to offer more money for the First Order's diminishing military.The wealthiest planet in the new Galactic, called Jorkhan, is the last of the capitals in the Order's funding, but when the First Order ask for more financial assistance, the King of Jorkhan refuses unless the Order give his Kingdom and royal line an advantage in the form of a bloodline with force sensitives.Desperate and tenacious in their eventual overthrowing of the galaxy, the Supreme Leader agrees and proposes a union of the King's daughter and his newest apprentice, Kylo Ren. But when the Princess flees, the King does the unthinkable and gathers every woman in his Kingdom and finds one that looks the most like his daughter.She was born in the slums of Jorkhan and loathes the Kingdom and the First Order, but she would do anything to save her own life.She would even imitate a royal.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	1. Introduction

THE FIRST ORDER are in debt! When the rising Empire were trying to lay their first foundations after emerging out of the rubble of the demolished, GALACTIC EMPIRE, the new dictatorship, known as THE FIRST ORDER, was funded by the wealthy planets and Kingdoms, who still followed the morals of the forgotten EMPIRE and wished to see the galaxy return to the way it was before THE GALACTIC EMPIRE was destroyed.

But when THE FIRST ORDER aren't keeping to their promises and their overthrowing of the galaxy is only considered by the small planets they had demolished or ravaged with war, the wealthy planets who had funded the ORDER, become furious in their slow pace and begin to refuse to offer more money for THE FIRST ORDER'S diminishing military. 

The wealthiest planet in the new GALACTIC, called JORKHAN, is the last of the capitals in THE FIRST ORDER'S funding, but when THE FIRST ORDER ask for more financial assistance, the King of JORKHAN refuses unless THE FIRST ORDER give his Kingdom and royal line an advantage in the form of a bloodline with force sensitives. 

THE FIRST ORDER are so desperate and tenacious in their eventual overthrowing of the galaxy, that THE SUPREME LEADER agrees and proposes a union of the King's daughter and his newest apprentice, KYLO REN. But when the Princess of JORKHAN finds out about the proposal, she flees, leaving the King to be the only one in debt, so he does the unthinkable and gathers every woman in his Kingdom that looks similar to the Princess. 

She was born and raised in the poor slums of JORKHAN, but one day she was captured by royal guards and was told to forget her name, whilst giving her a new one and a golden crown to match. 

She doesn't want to marry the mean, KYLO REN, but she would do anything to save her own life. 

She would even imitate a royal.


	2. Jorkhan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this work is originally found on Wattpad, user: stylesdove

Under the midday suns, the strawberry bushes glowed more rosy than they ever could as the day-shine was at its peak in the blue sky. The branches of each small shrub, spread out as if so proud of the bounty they brought and sweetness given within each one. It was a party of colours in order and of a beauty that sprung from simple seeds blessed with last week's mud and rain, to which the grown and cherished crimson, now stains my fingertips and nails.

The orchard from my view is never-ending in its long rows of strawberry bushes which then shift into lines of other fruits that the land I walk, grows. The landscape is a work of art in itself, perfect blends of red, green and yellow in patterns which my untrained hand could never paint.

I twist a plucked strawberry in between my gentle forefinger and thumb, its size to the rest is uneven as each one I tear from its branches, is a different shape and I cannot predict the flavour unless I slightly squish the sizes to feel the soft, sweetness within.

My mouth waters and my empty stomach grumbles behind my tight apron, but I don't listen to the little voice in my head, who whispers that I should eat it, for it is only one little strawberry out of millions to pluck, because the welts on the back of my hand remind me of how much trouble that stupid choice will result in if I am caught like I was a few days ago.

A watcher is a few feet behind me, his eye trained on the little red in my hand, but he only looks away to another servant when he notices me put it delicately into my basket.

The rows of girls and I, who are all about two metres away from the next picker, all have conversations, offer emotional support and share laughs where they could be had. It was this sort of chit-chat that began to rebuild our community that was slowly crumbling in the midst of our poverty.

Our skin is all tortured by the sun due to monotonous exposure and the stench of sweat is evident. With messy hair and dirtied skin, we all have a uniform of rags and hard labour is the stains, meaning we are all a sure sign of rough living in a supposed, grand planet.

But what would I truely know? I have never even seen the luxury of this planet for the guards that had been lended by the tenacious, First Order, who are ripping this galaxy to shreds whilst our King allows them to, are blocking the end of the town where the rags indeed, do meet riches.

All I truely do know, is that my stomach feels like a black hole every moment I'm awake and there's never enough to quell the pain or even provide a hint of relief, no matter how much I save my few cents and buy the fortnightly allowance of grains and rice that the Kingdom, oh-so-graciously, serve to us below them.

Getting food is everyone's obsession in the poverty line and thinking of anything else is just a waste of our time. We live and breathe for everyday that we wake with our grumbling stomachs, thanking the God's of the Universe for another sparing, whilst simultaneously cursing at them for giving us such a cruel destiny.

Being hungry is only another part of my soul. An adequate diet is a luxury for the rich. Our stomachs stay empty from sun up until sundown when we gather to share what we've found with our closest loved ones – But I had no family to share with, much like a lot of the children did here.

Many families only consisted of a Mother and their child, and you were lucky enough to even have a Mother if fate decided that.

That was only another brutal thing that the Kingdom and their allegiance with The First Order provided, for all those years ago, when the King of Jorkhan began to finance the next Order, this planet became theirs too, leaving our royal guards to turn into StormTroopers, our weapons to turn into ones of first class and our land to become their safe point in the galaxy that is enduring a gruesome war which was created by their own hands... The result of having the worst people in the Universe taking your planet as a homestead? They began to rape the women of our planet, leaving them to carry children into the same world that they didn't even want to live in.

I was one of those children, but I wasn't fortunate enough to have a Mother; She died giving birth to me – And some little part of me is grateful that she escaped this place before it became even more torturous to her life.

The servants on this farm are the luckiest of the many in the lower life of Jorkham, for we actually do earn a couple of cents a day, whereas many of our neighbours earn smaller or nothing at all. I have always lived in the slums of my planet and where the rich live in gold, we live in their dust.

My job is to pick the fruit off the orchards and give them back to the owners of the land, who then sell it in the markets for the rich to eat. I wonder if the first class of this planet even know where their berries were coming from? Do they know my grimy hands are the ones that plucks them off the tree to be placed onto their golden plates? I'm sure if they did, they wouldn't want them anymore.

Everyone in the slums of the Kingdom, all have two common grounds, we all have nothing and we all despise the royals who have everything.

I'm walking down the lines of shrubs slowly, picking out only the best strawberries and leaving the undeveloped berries for the girl behind me to check, to which she sometimes picks out the good ones I had mistakenly missed.

It's a constant form, the way all of us girls do our work and never complain for this is all we truely have. But I must say, there is a higher excitement in the grim faces around me as they talk to one another from the different lines, for it is nearing lunchtime for my group of a dozen and we are slowly making our way back to the main building, where there is minimal food left out for us, consisting of the broken or rotting fruits that had fallen to the dirt during the day, and a jug that is brown with the well-water inside, which is heating up beneath the cracks in the wooden shack.

"Oh, look there he is!" A girl beside me gasps to her friend behind her. She was new to the trade and so obviously younger in her soft features and grey eyes that are slowly turning into a blue, thanks to the few cents she has put onto her family's table, giving her more food to eat every-night before bed.

The girl behind her is fresh too, but has already worked a month in the apple orchards. She smiles to the girl and follows where her outstretched finger points, as she cradles her basket to her hip and smiles.

I glance to where they look onwards too and raise an eyebrow at the horse stable that sits on a small hill to the side of the barn where our lunch awaits. Chuckling softly beneath my breath, I shake my head and glance over to the woman behind me, who I have known since I had first started working here all those years ago. She rolls her eyes.

The farm grew up out of the pale green hills as if it had always been part of the scenery. The colours bringing the hues of the land into the rolling fields which grew all the best fruits that my tongue would never taste unless I risked a whipping for it.

When the orchards are beginning to thin, I start to pay little attention to what I am picking out, for the churn of my stomach is becoming almost too unbearable beneath this scorching sun. Only plucking a few more whilst I follow the woman who is metres before me to the end of this line, I swipe my hands on my apron and skirt, trying to rid the red tinge from my fingers that will never leave no matter how much I try and scrub it with the brown water at home.

Then, cocking my own basket to my hip, I sway my long, brown skirt up the hill and make way to the wooden building that all the other girls of this picking-group, huddle into, ready to snatch the nicest of the bunch first in the fruit tray. But I don't follow them all the way into the large barn.

After I have given my basket over to a StormTrooper, who must be sweating profusely beneath all of that metal as he then packs my collection into the back of a vehicle, I make my way over to the paddock. Ignoring the gasps of the two girls from before as I walk over to the young boy who is brushing the mane of a white horse, which basks beneath the two sun's rays, I break into a small smile as I let my boots swish aside the long grass around me.

His broad back is facing me and with the thin fabric of his shirt sticking against it in the summer sweat that laces his toned body, I see the muscles tense and loosen as he runs a brush over the mane. The horse is calm in his soft grip and I know those hands that hold it all so well, the way the knuckles are always laced with grazes and his fingernails are cut painfully short.

Amid the long reed grass, my movement is soft to his golden ears, and my hair sways in the unseen wind, moving both it and the grass the same as if we were one. Though I only had half an hour to relax until being thrown back into work, I bask in these moments as much as the horse in my friend's hands did, for in these short moments on the farm, there is an eternity in each second, a joy that comes in the free birdsong and a steadiness to my heart and soul. Sometimes in this short break, I like to imagine that I own all of the land around me and that my stomach isn't grumbling. That everything is content and I am free with my best friend beside me.

Trying to sneak up on him, the horse's ears only perk towards me as so does it's deep, brown eyes. The graze of hooves split the silence and it made a chesty sound as it smacked it's lips at my presence. The wind licked at his mane as the boy removes his soft brushes and turns my way.

In the powerful greens, the boy had eyes of pure mischief and a heart of gold. His smile was one of happiness growing, as much as the apples in the orchards that seemed to ripen around it. I could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and then spread into every part of him, and I heard it in his voice as he greeted me warmly,

"It's odd seeing you here." He chimes sarcastically, dropping the brush in his hands to the floor and then wiping his dirty palms on his pants.

I give him a small laugh and roll my eyes, playing along with the same tone he had given me, "Yes, well I don't come here often."

He chuckles and it comes from low in his stomach all the way into the bright, summer air around us. When he opened his arms, a blush formed on my already red cheeks and I immediately flung myself into his chest for a steady hug.

The boy I held as tightly in my arms as he did to me, was my anchor in a world that was as brutal as an ocean in a heavy storm. He had been my best friend since I can remember, for we had grown up in the same home that housed all of the orphans in the roughest part of Jorkhan.

It was an old, rusty home that always smelt of dust and grime and if I didn't have the blonde boy with me, I think I would have never seen the true beauty in a soul, for all I was surrounded with was dull faces and occasionally an upturned smirk from the rich visitors who would sometimes be generous enough to reach into their back pocket and give us their useless change.

His name was Anwar, and as I pulled away and gave him a big smile, he only returned a bigger one. His green eyes did all the grinning though, squinting and forming little laugh lines beside them on the soft, golden skin which matched his hair perfectly.

Oh, he was so blonde – Almost the same type of gold that the people who lived in luxury paid hundreds for. It was a mop of memories in its glory as I peaked at it slightly, memories of golden wheat fields, the resemblance of a newborn day, of the sunlight that called for us to open our eyes and praise the dawn of survival. Gleaming, dancing and whispering gentle songs in all of its thriving, into the hot wind that swayed around us.

Anwar was the greatest, best-friend anyone could ask for, he was my light in the dark, always.

He was always there for me, even during the hard times of our childhood, which then turned into an even harder growth into beyond that. He was the right blend between mature and boyish, which gave the best spark in his soul that extended to my own. He was a man who had simply skipped childhood, as did I; Forced to look after himself for there was nobody else to take care of him. And though he didn't have to, but he still took care of me too.

Over the years, I must admit I had grown a small crush on him that simply turned into a much bigger one, and it didn't help that he always pretended he didn't know... For if he doesn't, that is even worse because my nerves around him and even the blush on my skin, are a beacon to my longing.

I guess it didn't hurt that he was a good looking boy, but it was more than that. He was quiet, but not out of painful shyness, just rather a reservedness that he dedicated only to the ones he cared about. Yet, at the same time, he wasn't stand-offish. I never saw him go out and deliberately make a friend, they just came to him – Much like all the girls had when he grew out of his awkward, skinny stage and into the brooding man with chiseled features and kind eyes, though beneath the muscles that are born form tirelessly working all day with the horses, the malnourishment causes his bones to weep as much as my own do beneath the skin.

It was like a curse in disguise, upon one look, you wouldn't be able to tell that he was in so much pain beneath that gorgeous body, but his bones ached every-night before bed and so did the hole in his stomach.

"Not hungry?" He jokes, flickering and nudging his head over to the barn behind me that all the servants charge into.

Tutting and moving over to the beautiful horse of white behind him, I run my hand on its lower back and turn to the boy beside me as he begins to do the same.

"I'll go in later and scrape whatever I can." I smile, "It's not everyday you're working around the stable during my break."

All of a sudden, he flinches his hand off the horse and smacks the back of my head lightly, "You fool." He chortles, "I am here everyday as are you."

Gasping a fake sound of hurt, I cradle my hand to the back of my head and try not to laugh. Twisting my features into a grimace, I only lunge at him and try to kick at his shins.

He jolts back but I only follow as he bends low whilst still moving and defends his legs with his rough hands. Cursing at me lightly, I hold my long skirt up and threaten to still kick out my boots as I give into the build of laughter that rises in my chest.

"Alright! Alright!" Anwar pleads, "I'm sorry!"

Stopping immediately, I stood proud with my shoulders laid back and my hair breezing behind me. He still holds his fists up in an amusing way as if he would ever lay them upon me.

"I know, I should go in and I will." I laugh, "But the new girls in my picking group seem to have a crush on you and I wanted to make them jealous."

Anwar drops his hands to his sides and he raises a single eyebrow, cocking his eyes to the barn.

"Which girls?" He licks his bottom lip, trying to suppress the sarcastic smirk that is tugging from his rosy cheeks. I scoff and roll my eyes at him. "Oh! Don't be shy, now. Point them out to me." He jests. 

There was nothing threatening about Anwar, nothing at all. He was an easy listener, a good audience, giving encouraging feedback laced with intelligent comments. He worked hard, he got his work done. But Gods, his humour was hard to keep up with, sometimes.

"I'm kidding." He drawls, looking back over to me with gleaming greens and the spark of a child in the smile that came all the way from his core. From him comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness as he grabs onto my hand softly, though his hands are covered in welts as are mine too.

"Come here." Anwar says, leading me with one hand and the horse by its leash in another, into the stable. "I have something for you."

It was only large shed made of weathered oak planks with a sloping corrugated iron roof that made even the average wind sound like a howl of bullets, but when the summer breeze passes, it is deadly quiet other than the horses who make little noises in their assigned, seperate stalls.

As Anwar lets go go my hand, I swipe the nervous sweat onto my skirt and look around the stable as he leads the horse away. The floors were nothing but a deep golden hue of old straw and half empty hay net hangs limply in the corners of the space. The large stable door is half pinned back by a rusted iron hook and the door hinges creak as the wind returns and whips around the stable, reaching through the gaps in the planks like cool water to my scorching skin.

"What is it?" I ask him, impatiently like I always would.

He returns from the stall and sighs, "Nothing too special."

His tone only told me it was.

He grabs his cotton bag off a lonesome stack of hay and leaves the stable once more, kicking a tumble weed out of the way and nearly falling on the mess of his own feet as he did so. I only sigh and follow him once again, wondering why I even had to come into the barn in the first place.

He leads me over to the hill that looks over the building that I should be in right now, and I sit down next to him in the mess of swaying grass, the moment he drops onto his rear and bends his knees upwards to the sky, cradling the cotton bag in between his legs so I cannot take a peak.

"Oh, come on!" I giggle, shaking my head, "Just show me what you've got."

Anwar rolls his eyes, but the cocky smile upon his lips only prove the excitement within. As he reaches into his bag and pulls out the single object that sat within it, I furrow my brows at the paper wrapping, but they only widen once more as I gasp and shift onto my knees, holding a hand onto his knee and shaking it as I gleefully said,

"You didn't!"

He nods, "I did."

My stomach grumbles and my mouth salivates as Anwar unwraps the chocolate block within.

It's only a sliver but it was enough for me, who hadn't had a slice of chocolate in three years. The paper-wrapping round it, has a thin layer of silver that is supposed to keep it from melting but as soon as Anwar takes the plaque and breaks the tiny piece in half, then laying one piece on my palm, I could feel the softness of its underside, melt against my warm skin.

Swallowing before I placed it delicately on my tongue, I close my mouth and swirl it until it turns to liquid. It tastes sweet yet a tiny bit bitter. As I move it around my mouth, a small moan muffles behind my closed lips as I finish the delicious sweet, but once it was finished, my heart immediately ached for more.

Chocolate can only be compared to nectar and ambrosia, the delicacy of the Gods and the people who bathe in riches.

"Thank you!" I throw my arms around him and then pull away, glancing to the empty paper in his hands and wondering if it is worth scratching my fingernail against the tiny, minuscule flakes to taste a hint of more.

"I passed that confectionary store that I know you liked the other-day when I was selling one of the horses in town." Anwar smiles and then sighs, "I know it's not a lot, but it was all I could spare my change on."

Parting my lips, I rest my hand back onto his knee and glance over the farm the same way he did. "You could have given me a smell of it and I would have been just as grateful."

He chuckles lightly beneath his breath and we sigh in our contentment as we watch over the calm landscape, only slightly flickering our gaze over the slaves who still picked at the apricot orchards and then returning it back to another two vehicles which pull up beside the one that packs our hard labour into.

The First Order's symbol is powerful against their solid black machines and they sneer at our frail states as we watch the many StormTroopers all pile out of the vehicles and cock their blasters around, presumably checking on the landscape and ensuring everyone was working to efficient standards.

I narrow my eyes on their white armour and lift my hand off Anwar's knee, curling them both around my own as I hug my legs to my chest.

The First Order were a plague to the galaxy, but they masked it with a heroic cure that would never be their true purpose or design. The new Order was the result of a fallen one, which was demolished way before my time, but they both believed in the same morals and ways of life that resulted in chaos in the form of mandatory systems that only left the powerless even more so and the powerful, a God in their own eyes.

It is the task of The First Order to remove disorder from our own existence, but that truely only results in a cruel arrangement where freedom no longer exists. They call it a stability that resembles the type that existed in the forgotten Empire, that was reduced to anarchy by the Rebellion; And to The First Order, they will be the ones to restore it – Even though, the galaxy was more peaceful without them.

Jorkhan was always a rich planet, but the poverty was also the worst compared to any system, and I guess that's a good way to describe the Order of this Empire, for they do not care about the mess they cause, they are truely only getting what the want in the form of stealing it from another.

But The First Order didn't steal anything from Jorkhan, our King had given it all to them as if he no longer wanted the crown himself.

The King funded The First Order from the moment it was created in the midst of the rubble, but as he spent the planet's money on the cruel Empire, that only left the unfortunate civilians of Jorkhan to live in their own rubble now, for that is all we will ever have – Thanks to the King, The First Order and the new apprentice who had joined the Empire, swaying his position with his force sensitivity.

I believed his name was, Kylo Ren. He was just another power in a financial and violent Universe.

The financial system enables the privileged to prey on the disadvantaged, it is obvious, but the fact that it enables the Royal line to prey on the servants, is only a torture to my soul. You can either support or exploit others, to chase greed in the form of winning a war and money, is a choice that has no empathy for the losers.

They're all corrupted, and by their rich hands, the Universe will burn before they ever win a war which they had started themselves.

Anwar scoffs lowly to himself and I know simply by that sound, he was thinking the same things I was.

"How could they just walk around with their guns and bark orders that come from another man's mouth?" He spits, "Do they not have any individuality or human morals?"

His hands scrunch the chocolate wrapper and I know he wants to chuck it down the hill and on one of the StormTrooper's below but he never will. Anwar's hands were as rough as any worker, callused and scarred at the fingertips. I glance to them only once before I notice him now staring back at me.

I shake my head, "I think they're only doing it because they know their position will always be better than ours. It's safer to hide in The First Order than to fight against it."

He tuts and looks down onto the grass by his boots, "If I ever had the advantage of freedom, I would leave this planet in a heartbeat."

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat as I watch his fragility beside me.

Anwar was the strongest person that I had ever known, and I had often leaned on him in attempts to withstand my own weakness. He had a trite politeness, one of great spirit and noble ways. What he is, what is beautiful about him, comes from deep within and it makes me want to feel how his lips move in a kiss, how his hands follow the curves of my body. As each year passes the lines continue deepen upon his face and more scars only form upon his skin, but he will always be handsome still, as if his soul shines through his flesh instead of the violence that marks it.

"I'd sneak you in my baggage, of course." He turns back to me, "– Because I know I could never afford two seats out of here."

I begin to laugh but my chuckles only get cut off by a piercing scream that erupts below. It was the kind of scream that made my blood run cold even in the summer suns. It pierced my ears and shot into my brain, ignited some primeval pathway that needed to find the source.

Widening our eyes, both Anwar and I, got onto our feet quickly and set our sights upon the StormTrooper's who were grabbing onto some of the servant girls and throwing them into the back of their vehicles as roughly as they would with a rotting basket of fruit.

_What had those girls done?_

When the soul-shattering scream breaks the hot breeze once more, I find it to be coming from the girl who had swooned at the sight of Anwar earlier before. She's trying to run away from a singular StormTrooper, who only stalks behind her closely, his blaster cocking backwards and hitting her in the back of the head with the hard metal.

She falls to the floor limply and her skirt and apron sprawl out around her, sinking into the mud and becoming even more grimy than before. When the StormTrooper leans down and begins to drag her over to the vehicle by her feet, I yell out and ignore my own whispers of survival as I run down the small hill and over to them.

The warm humidity of the farm made me feel sticky and suffocated, but I was determined. My clothes and hair, slick with perspiration, clung to my hot skin and as I ran, I swatted pesky insects away. I could feel my heart throbbing inside my chest and the lack of food in my stomach made me feel dizzy.

Anwar began to jog behind, settling to stumbling along as fast as he could, whilst shouting at me to not do anything stupid.

When small hill finally turns flat, I notice all the tear-stained faces of the girls inside the wooden building, their lunch, long forgotten and their friends being thrown into the vehicle. I clench my fists by my sides and rip my arm out of Anwar's grip as I saunter up to a StormTrooper.

"What are you doing!?" I screech into his mask, only meeting my furious reflection in the black panes.

In his intense silence, he cocks his mask to the side as if he is studying me and when his electric voice, says his next words, not to me but to another soldier who walks over, my heart cramps.

"She fits the criteria." He says, nonchalantly to his squad-mate, "Get her."

Eyes turning wide with horror and my mouth rigid and open, my features became chalky, gaunt and immobile in the reflection of his mask. My fists clenched with whitening knuckles and my nails dug deeply into the palms of my hands; No longer do I feel the clenching reminder of hunger, but only the sharp pierce of fear that stabs its way into my veins.

When the other StormTrooper grabs me by the wrist the same way Anwar had, I scream the same scream that lead me down here and try to retract my arm out of his metal grip. My heels kick into the ground, bringing up dirt and tearing out all of the long grass buried into it as I am dragged so harshly that I think my arm is about to be torn out of its socket.

All at once, the fear chokes the life out of me and I cannot breath. My heart was racing faster than it ever should and a choked cry for help forced itself up my throat as the tears began to fall.

"Hey!" Anwar shouted, his hair flying messily around him as he tried to tear the StormTrooper away, "What are you doing? Get off of her!"

In the midst of a push and pull between Anwar and the soldier, I am being thrown around and I look into Anwar's, horrific eyes. Frightened by his expression, it must have also matched mine as I took in a sudden intake of breath and stumbled backwards with the StormTrooper still hanging on as another tackled Anwar away.

"Sorry, kid." The soldier from before says with a shrug of his padded shoulders, waltzing over to Anwar who struggles beneath the weight of the man on top of him. "– King's orders."

I furrow my eyebrows and scream as my arm is pulled even tighter as I try to reach for Anwar. My skin is beginning to bruise beneath the tight grip and the tears won't stop falling. I glance over to the girls in the barn, wondering why this was only happening to a small portion of us and I plead in a brittle cry for one of them to help me, but they never even flinch.

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout my body. My stomach ached and my arms lost tension as my legs began to weaken. Crouching over my gut, I realise the StormTrooper had punched all the wind out of my system, leaving me heaving.

My tongue was soaked in the taste of blood and my teeth had bitten down into it. Bruised and winded, I sunk to my knees and gasped for air that only felt like cement settling into my lungs.

Suddenly all I see is Anwar, as I look over to him through my hazy tears. Everything else falls away and I can no longer hear the StormTrooper's around me, nor the screams of the other girls who had the same fate as me.

Just when enough air gets by, I use every last bit of it to croak a small,

"Anwar..."

His eyes are frightened, yet sad all at once and when I am picked up by the crook of my elbows, my body reacts like there's a gun to my head. My muscles are frozen in place but filled with such a tingling pressure which makes me want to run but my body is only unresponsive.

When I am limply thrown into the back of the vehicle, thrashing against the limbs of three other girls and the knocked out body of the girl from before, all I can see is loose forms of colour, and the field I look out to from the dark carrier, rises in a way that brings a newly departed calm to my thoughts as a haze begins to draw into the corners of my eyes.

I watch the green hues as it deepens and lightens in the sun-rays. The brutal scene plays out once more before me, another girl being plucked from the group as easily as I had plucked a million strawberries, and she is thrown against me.

When the StormTrooper finally slams the thick, metal door closed, the grasses are tufting and waving me goodbye in a gentle way, which makes me think that I will never see this place or Anwar again.


	3. Golden Gates

The hot wind pushes against the vehicle as if to force us back to where we belong, but there is no avail, no matter how mighty in its howl. 

We are going forwards and nothing but a blessed tragedy could change that – I want the subtle wind to pick up its pace and shove these First Order prisons over, leaving the seven girls and I, who are all cowering together in the back of one vehicle out of the three, to flee and run back to the place that we once thought was our farmer's cage.

The tires make their monotonous hiss over the stone roads, jittering and swaying us side to side as it rolls over thrown rocks and twigs that had fallen from the trees above. 

The air that makes its way though the filters in the sides of the van is meadow-sweet, proving to me that we are still in the country-side where the birds outside are even calling for us to return back to the orchards. 

All around, through these tinted windows are fields. This tin box is destined for the horizon, heading to a destination that is unknown and I am a nervous mess that clings onto the thick window with bruises scattered all over my skin like watercolour to a pastel page. I had been spending the last ten minutes, smashing at the pane with my fists and elbows, but never did the glass dint or shatter as the girls behind me huddled into the corners of the vehicle and cried.

I began to do the same.

There were no seats in the tin box, leaving us to slide and trip with every turn and bump. I run a shaking hand through my hair and focus on my breathing, but it only quickens with the thudding of my terrified heart and even the air in here is starting to become too hot to inhale. 

I know I'm scared when in the midst of a wild panic, old fears run through my head and try to trigger a survival-mode within, but when I hear the taunting laughter of years past, sneering at my pathetic excuse for a life, I only give into the fear that builds and let out a yelp of sobs, mimicking the girls around me. I know I'm truly doomed and scared, when those bad memories cut loose their chains and invade my confidence, eroding the person I have built since those dark days and turning me into the frightened child that I once was in the orphanage. 

I sink to my knees and claw my fingernails against the metal walls around me. 

Where were The First Order taking us?

Why were they taking us? 

If I close my eyes, I can feel the gentle rise and fall of the road beneath us. I cannot imagine what is in store, for anything that The First Order do, are never laced with good intentions. All they do, is cause chaos and war... And something in the faces around, told me they knew something bad was bound to happen to us all.

But why us? I recall the way when Anwar was thrown so harshly to the ground, the StormTrooper had said something about it being upon the King's order, but what could he ever want from the dirt beneath his leather boot?

Amid the infinitely greened hills, the rolling verdant hues that flow into charcoal, is the road that meets the stone path that we drive upon, signifying that we were about to go through the south-east corner of the city, where the poorest live and gather in the grimy streets that twine before the golden, gated community of the rich. 

The south-east corner of Jorkhan's capital city, is a dark spot of tarnish in a shining sea of treasure. Somehow, when the path and country-sides began to thin, the road only became less soft, more rickety as it shakes us around and vibrates my own horrified, heartbeat into my ears.

I inhale a sharp breath inwards and wrap my sore arms around my legs, cradling myself as if I was not the fearful child myself, but the one soothing promises into my ear.

Whilst the path knocks my brain against the back of my skull, it seems to have shut down completely as I stare brokenly at my own boots. I was clammy and there was the glisten of a cold sweat in the midst of a hot torture. My eyes were as wide as if I was making my way over to an execution parade – And a little voice in my soul told me to not rule that possibility out completely.

The town was a maze of narrow and winding streets, as complex as my heart that beats erratically within. The streets were the veins, paved with dark stones, and the people were the blood that flooded among it. The sound of gasps and the feet that jumped out of the vehicle's way, was the consistent and dull pounding that let me know the town was alive and as fearful as I was.

Turning back to the window and hovering onto my legs of jelly once more, I hold my hands onto the sides of the window and begin to slowly bang against it to capture the attention of the sneering faces of the poor that spat on the wheels and threw rotting fruit onto the metal.

Two other girls fluttered to my sides and did the same, crying and pleading for a saviour, but by the way the dirt-smeared faces contorted upon us, made me realise they couldn't see inside – Even without the juice and fruit-flies now sticking against the window. 

The flag on the car rumbles violently in the wind and the logos are only clawed at by the dirty people's hands. No longer is there a sweet smell seeping into the vents, but now there is the acrid smell of stale dirt and sweat loitering over us; A true smell of poverty as we ride through our own veins.

Screams and protests begin around our windows and it only causes more fear to build as civilians have to jump out of the way in a millisecond to not be run over so carelessly. The girl from before, who had been knocked out cold by a StormTrooper, laid limply on her side as another girl held onto her shoulders to make sure she didn't smack against the walls harshly in the chaotic drive. 

She was slowly awakening to the chants outside and the stones that were tinting the other-side of the metal but never penetrating. 

With fearful blues, she immediately shoots up as something hits the pane behind her back and she shrieks.

"What is happening?" She panics, spit flying off her tongue as she raises a hand to the back of her head and locates the growing bump, "Where are they taking us?"

The girl's hair was barely combed back into a messy ponytail, and dirt was smeared across her cheek and forehead. With her clothes marked in dried mud, there wasn't even an inch of fabric that wasn't stained, thanks to her hard fall back on the orchard. 

A little rise of anger builds in my core and suddenly, I want to cuss at her for bringing me into this mess, for if I didn't run down that stupid hill to go help her, I wouldn't have been taken either with a blow to my tense abdomen. But this wasn't her fault, it was The First Order's and it was the King's who had let them in and allowed them to ruin the lives of the people of Jorkhan. 

I roll my eyes and look back out of the window, standing solidly next to the girl beside me as we both glance to the golden gate in the distance which hid slightly behind the huddle of people.

"It looks like we're heading into the forbidden city." The girl beside me, gasps.

My eyes shift from the golden gate and to my own reflection in the glass, noticing the tear tracks and the rosy cheeks. I only swallowed the lump in my throat, when the gold shines behind the dullness of my eyes.

"The forbidden city?" The young girl behind, whispers.

The woman beside me, turns over to her and I watch them only with my peripherals as the gates slowly open. 

"You know, where people like us aren't welcomed."

I flinch as I watch a StormTrooper beat a man down with his metal bat as the man tries to slip by the gold as do we. The suffering and the anarchy in the riots around the cars, is brutal and I am hyperventilating in the midst of it all. Our leaders of order in the revolution became our new enemies to the unfortunate. Jorkhan was corrupted and though the man had limply fallen to the ground with one knock, like all things in this Universe are to The First Order, it wasn't enough – For the StormTrooper began to kick and whack his baton to the frail bones of the skinny elder repetitively. 

I turn away from the window, glancing to the skinny girl below, who still held a hand to the back of her head.

"Why would The First Order be taking us to the richest part of Jorkhan?" She asks, as if we knew more than she did, with the furrow of her brows. Only now did I notice that all seven of us, had the same coloured hair, skin tones and were all similar builds and heights. 

I finally spoke with a soft rasp that cut its way up my tight throat. "I don't know." 

The last girl who stood by the window, shrieks. 

I turn my head and the girl on the floor stands to see what was worth seeing with the smearing of her hands against the glass and her forehead falling against it too.

The skinny girl breathes deep below her breath with wide wide eyes and a slacked jaw, and I mimic it as the view pulls me in also – Like an ignorant moth to a burning flame. 

The road was a smooth, black river, the sort that wheels float so effortlessly along the calm surface. Without the rattle of stones beneath the thick tires, my ears begin to ring in the desolate quiet that only the gasps fill.

After weaving through the labyrinth of roads, the paths eventually converged and unveiled the city that glowed in all of its glory around us. No longer was there dirty, grim faces around, but ones that radiated a sense of happiness in their chubby cheeks and full bellies. Flocks of pigeons gathered everywhere; their numbers delighting the rich as they huddled around the birds and fed them crumbs of bread, which would take me two weeks to afford one slice of. 

The city air is fresh, almost as sweet and floral as the untouched country-side, as the pace of living relaxes to a steadier rhythm in the city, one much more lively than the dirty and disorderly one that we were used to on the other-side of the fence. 

A sea of people, of all ages and ethnicities, filled the square, waving and smiling at the carriers that we rode in, a stark difference to the bony people who used all their pent up anger to punch the sides instead. Nothing was sun-bleached, nothing scratched or chipped. The street was free of litter, the walls were undesecrated to perfection.

The nausea swirled unrestrained in my empty stomach and my head swam with hatred and envy at the people who almost glided down the clean streets, stopping at windows and walking in with such freedom. My heart felt as if my blood had become as black as the dirt that is stuck beneath my nails, as it struggled to keep a steady beat. My grudge hung over me like a dark cloud, raining personal sorrow down on me as I look onwards to the golden city which didn't even have a single speck in the blue sky. 

"Wow." A girl sighed beside me and if the envy didn't swirl so rudely and torturously in my guts, I perhaps, would have said the same thing. 

The First Order were terrible people who only left a ravaged trail behind in their journey to overthrowing the galaxy – That was the very reason the disadvantaged citizens protested for the rights to have respect, the right to live without a constant fear for access to basic needs or the constant fear of violence. And yet, only a couple of minutes away from those protesters, these people were bowing and giving a warmth to an order so cold... Why? Well, their nourished features and full wallets stopped them from fighting for freedom, because they could simply buy it instead.

I hope these people are lonely behind such high towers, paranoid as they fill their world with weapons, each as deadly as the last sin they inflicted on the less powerful. I hope that the Kingdom one day crumbles as easily as The First Order tears down others, and that every single person who shines with gold, one day rusts as easily as my heart was born to do so.

When that same Kingdom towers before our weary eyes, I blink soft and traitorous tears onto my cheeks of welts and crimson.

Much like the high fence guarding us scum from their clean, rich streets, a tall row of gold surrounds the palace which is the size of three orchard farms combined. The fence stood there so solidly as if it was created by the soil that it was buried so deep inside, withstanding the wind season after season and even the people of luxury, who may have ever tried to scale it like the people in poverty did to their's.

I imagined it gone. I saw how the land flowed better and something in my heart swelled at the idea. I imagined the stone building crumbling and my kind tearing through the rubble, stealing everything they had as ruthlessly as The First Order had stolen us.

The castle was bold against the blue beyond. Built of stones of varying sizes and shapes, each one unique. From a distance it is a bland and uniform grey that rises from the land, unapologetic and bold to defy entrance and protect what has been entrusted to the wealthiest of them all. But when the vehicles come closer, from up close it is a mosaic of humble bricks, the same kind that my favourite confectionary shop in my side of town was built from – And yet, though they were made from the same stone, there was still a stark difference in how those walls were cherished. 

The castle is more ancient than any bone left in the soil, and the same line of family had always lived inside of those walls. When the vehicles are granted access inside, we all begin to panic, for it is almost a sin for our kind to step foot in somewhere so undeserving. 

The windows of the palace are made from glass so strong that they must have replaced the ancient panes for the same fibre The First Order used for their space-shuttles and StormTroopers linger all around the grounds, which the tires of the cars dig up in double lines.

When the cars all then stop on a wide, open field where the horizon even seems to stretch to the end of the world, my stomach churns and I grip my hands into tight fists by my sides. The three vehicles, only joined a hundred more and when I glance to the window behind the one we all peer out of, the bile rises into my throat and I have to swallow all of the spit in my mouth, leaving my tongue, sand-paper dry as I stutter out, 

"L-Look..."

When they all turn to where my trembling finger points, the doors to the vehicle open wide and the sun pierces our dilated pupils that sit where even the fear bleeds into the colours around them.

The StormTroopers all huddle close together and tear the first girl out by her ankle as we all cower to the back of the small space. I'm at the front of the bunch and the skinner, young girl behind me is pushing her hands against my back and cowering her face into my shoulder blade for protection. But I am no match for the armoured thieves, who grab me by my frail limbs and pass me onwards and out of the vehicle, causing me to scrape my knees on the side of the metal as my feet fall to soft green, grass. 

They then tear the boots off of my feet and throw them to a pile of thousands, leaving my pair that I had spent three months saving for, to be hidden like a grain in a sandpit. 

Terror is swimming around my mind and hijacking my thoughts, causing them to run quick with no care for reality, and I want them to slow so I can breathe but they won't. 

My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will soon black out when another soldier bounds my wrists and ankles together, shackling them with a cool metal which hums with electricity that keeps the hand-cuffs tied together. 

My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin from a much bigger predator, who licks its lips as it chases after it, and I am shaking like the leaves of the tall trees that surround the palace. 

When the StormTroopers all gather the girls from the farm out of the three vehicles, they then line us up in a formal order and lead us into the long mess of grim lines. 

In the midst of the hundreds, I am kicked to my knees and the cuffs at my ankles dig into the flesh of my bare skin, cutting thinly into the flesh and drawing blood.

Some girls were screaming and sobbing as if they knew death was surely coming for us all and when the scrawny girl, who had a large lump now pulsating on the back of her skull, kneels beside me, she clings onto the Trooper who had kicked her to the ground, pleading for him to let her go – But he never will.

All the stolen girls lined up and dug their knees in the dirt. Their wrists and ankles wearing the welts of the cold, steel shackles applied by the The First Order, like a uniform to the next girl beside them. Looking around with wide eyes and trembling lips, every familiar feature was gaunt, nauseous, wide eyed and behind the thin rags of our dirty clothing, our hearts were racing. 

My grimy nails dug deep into my palms, the berry juice no longer the only hint of red that stains my skin, yet I never noticed the pain or flinched my fingers outwards. 

An invisible hand clasps over my mouth, muffling every whimper my throat brings, whilst I feel my ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate my lungs. My head is like an insect-swarm of fears spinning and flying out of control, each little fly pushing my mind further into darkness. I want to run, but my body is as paralysed as my shackled ankles are.

There's only one thing I am capable of sinking in, whilst in the midst of this inexplainable fear...

What I once thought of as a dozen of stolen girls, turned out to be roughly, one thousand, peasant girls, who all had the exact same identical features as I did, and we were all being lined up, ready to face whatever the King had truely ordered from us.


	4. The Choosing

We sit knee deep in silence, but our hearts are screaming for release.

In the middle of the hundred rows of girls like me, every skin and hair that matches my own, reflects the golden rays of the sun which beams from above, not caring for our dark melancholy on this fateful day.

It seems so bright in comparison to the mortal Kingdom, and never-less the castle before me is so beautiful, but I have to keep my head down, for when I look through the huddle of trembling girls, I notice a dozen of the Kingdom's most trusted, with their pins and ribbons on their shoulders and chests, signifying their allegiance and importance to the King.

As I watch a man far off at the front of the lines, his medallion that hung heavy and cold upon the expensive fabrics above his heart, became a dead weight to my stomach which sunk as I saw him tilt a girl's head up to his gaze. He studied her face for a short moment, but then all of a sudden, he shakes his head in dismissal and hands her a silver coin – A StormTrooper takes her away shortly after and it happens over and over as he makes his way down the line.

There's a dozen of them doing the same thing and a woman is making her way down my own line, with a StormTrooper closely behind her, holding his blaster tight in his armoured grip.

The dread creeps over me like an icy chill, numbing my brain as I watch her give a coin to each girl further down as she is nearing my way slowly. In this frozen state, I can only make out the coin to be what I could earn in a day, but the faces that lighten when the silver is placed in their palms, are as if it was the token to their freedom instead.

Suddenly, I feel like a cow being herded into a truck for the slaughter house, only the cows seem to know what is happening as they all try and jump from the moving vehicles that leave the farm, and yet, I have no idea what will become of me once I am given a silver coin and lead away, following the line of girls that are now being packed back into the hundreds of vehicles that were parked by the palace.

Glancing above The First Order cars, I take in the glory of the Kingdom that was behind them, with the high peaks in the roofs and gold domed towers. Open porches are built into the strong bricks, signifying rich rooms that were the size of a house and were held up with the most ostentatiously, detailed pillars which were painted in a brilliant white. On the outside, there were no doors on the ground floor, only arches that lead to the stone hallways of the courtyards.

The crunch of shiny, leather boots upon grass take away my gaze and to the palace worker who tilts up the face of the girl to my right. She only takes one glance at the servant to her feet who shakes in her hand as she sighs and reaches into the silk bag in her other and passes her a coin, nodding to the StormTrooper who then took the servant away. Another Trooper came to take his place like a never-ending rotation.

Her clothes weren't as luxurious as the other men who did the same thing, but upon her dress, she had a small pin tucked against the fabric, marking her just as important. The Jorkhan symbol is a mashed-up twining cord that bleeds into the mark of The First Order.

To me, it was the mark of a traitor, yet here she stood glorified by the authorities. The shiny gold disk on her neat, pressed uniform, hanging her life far above my own as I kneel before her.

I tear my gaze away and stare poisonous daggers into the dirt by her feet as my chest caves in with unease.

My heart is pounding and when her cold, dainty fingers reach for my chin and turn it up to her gaze, I already am cupping my bound hands together in my lap, awaiting the silver coin to drop into them.

I was facing an enemy that was most likely the same age as me, but my skin seemed to look much thicker than her pale and freckly cheeks. There was a steadiness to her as she held her shoulders back stiff and her hands were potent upon my chin.

Her hair was as waves of pure, scarlet ginger which softly reflected the light of the sun as each strand was tied loosely into a beautiful braid down her back in a compliment to her stillness. With eyes of river waters, in glossy serenity, her aura seeped into the summer air between us. And in that moment, in that fraction of time, even against my harsh gaze she still doesn't withdraw or flinch, but neither does she step forward to place a coin into my hands.

She stares with flickering eyes at my features as if she is mapping them out in the back of her mind, her eyes beginning with a hue designed not to give any emotion away, but in a millisecond, her features fall and her lips part softly.

She quickly takes her hand away from my skin and the summer breeze warms where her cool touch once was. The girl then turns to the new StormTrooper and I'm awaiting the dreaded shake of the head and the silver.

But it never comes.

All at once, my body felt light but heavy at the same time as my surroundings began to spin. Disorientation stole into my mind like a deranged thief, taking my consciousness and twisting it into just a void where the dread can morph into the darkness, adding new dangerous ideas to what might become of me as the girl nods her head and never reaches into the silk pouch but rather instead, points to me and says,

"Her."

Then, the StormTrooper picks me up by the metal binding my hands together and the remaining girls all cowered and looked over to me with hopeless eyes, whilst some turned away with eyes shut tight as I began to thrash and scream.

"Let me go!" I wailed in his metal grip, my bare feet swinging and barely grazing the soft touches of the green grass that reached towards me.

My stomach churns and the nausea rises against my throat but never releases into my dry mouth. My teeth then locked tight together, but I still grit screams behind them as the StormTrooper drags me over to the line of girls that are being packed into the back of the vans, but as the girl with the clinking coins walks closely behind my resisting body, another Trooper comes to help his squad-mate and grabs onto my shackled feet but I kick his hands away – We go straight by the cars and head towards the palace.

I look to the girl who held tight onto her silver pouch with thin hands, my eyes wide with fear as my voice shakes in a brittle plea for help,

"Please, let me go!"

She glances away and to the arches that tower above our heads as we enter the courtyards.

I can no longer avoid the fear more than the beating of my own heart as it pounds with futility against my cage of bone and cartilage. When I begin to sweat and become pale, I presume by the inklings of black that blisses around my vision, that I am about to pass out but the darkness never fully draws me into its submerge. Then, the tremor in my hands begins and my feet form cuts against the stone pave-ways that I try to kick my heels into.

New sparks of ideas that once, I would have dismissed as bizarre and irrational, started to grow roots, deep roots, like the ones that twined beneath the soil of the strawberry shrubs in the orchard, but these ones only plunged into my brain. These fearful roots were so irrational in their anxiety, that I began to feel them cord up my skin and wrap around my neck tightly as it sucked the air out of my lungs.

In the thorns, they started to etch senses of death to come in one revolutionary moment after another, cascading out of control and luring me further and further from the strong heart I had built walls around my entire life as I was dragged down the brilliant halls of the palace.

Until, I was so deep into the veins of the castle, I no longer recognised this place to be a creation among Jorkhan for it is too beautiful and golden in all of its high, royal, glory. Paths twisted and turned out of sight and so dense were the floors that I was dragged along wildly. In my new distorted reality, after a while I would turn my face in distress to the paintings along the walls and swear that their eyes were following me. I was in an inescapable maze, a prison without bars and my captures were only leading me further and further into its cage of walls and rich carpets.

"Where are you taking me?" I spit at the girl who follows with soft feet, "Why have you stolen all of us?"

High, delicate cheek bones, small nose, luminescent blue eyes, creamy smooth skin, and silky ginger tresses. Her gaze turned to me once more and she pursed her thin lips together tightly. She was rather petite and dainty, but didn't look as fragile as the girls I grew up around, looked.

Other than that, she wouldn't have looked out of place in the lower regions of Jorkhan, if she just had a little dirt beneath her glossed nails and the rest smeared against her features – Yet, she was dressed in a casually tailored dress and her skin was the closest to the pureness of white to which I imagine snow to be.

She had the look of one used to punctual service, her face poised to give her order and her manicured hands gripping onto the stack of silver that would make me rich if I had the ability to snatch it. Her eyes flickered to a large portrait that we passed by quickly, of a young woman who was obviously a royal by the golden crown that was painted above her head.

"With patience in time, comes answers." She hums. I curse at her.

When the StormTrooper who had tried to grab my shackled feet earlier, attempts to do it again, I only limply allow him to pick up my weight for I am heading up twining stairs in the distance.

The stairs ahead were twisted in a perfect spiral and each ledge was likely a deep wood, but with the thick layer of rich carpet that was as crimson as the blood that has dried upon the metal binding my limbs together, I couldn't truely tell. The inner edge was painted antique cream, and when we all mount the staircase, the two floors above are where they eventually conclude, and so do we.

The girl then opens a wide door and walks into a long room, where huddled inside came upon five or six servants in the dark space, all in the grey aprons of the royal uniform, all clean and neat in their appearance as they all hung onto dusters or feather brooms.

When the StormTroopers eventually let me go, dropping me harshly onto the floor and unshackling my limbs, I heave and squint in the dark room until the girl with the silk bag, walks over to the curtains, sliding the thick material across a golden bar which was bolted into the high ceiling and the light flooded in, bathed me in its warm golds and I look around the bedroom with blown eyes, taking in every detail of richness in the beauty.

Stretched far and wide, the bedroom was not only a space for a thin mattress like my own was, but rather a little home in itself. With a foyer in the middle, a large room conjoins and a high-posted bed stands grandly in the middle of the space, with ribbons and materials falling in comforting waves around the bed. Closets weren't a storage compartment, but instead another room almost the same size with mirrors all around the luxurious dresses and other articles of clothes. Even a large bathroom sat on the other-side of the foyer, where the bathtub was a pool in the centre of marbled tiles and draws.

My dirty clothes and I, did not belong here.

The room is crimson and beige, with beautiful murals on the wall, hand painted by someone who knew what they were doing – The girl from the other portrait is painted into canvasses with oak frames, smiling slightly but her crown does all the beaming.

Suddenly, when I notice the small birthmark that was etched beneath her right eye, so dark and beautifully contrasting to the brilliant colour of her eyes, I was thrown with the brittle realisation that I was in the Princess of Jorkhan's, bedroom.

I stare at her beauty, bewildered and wondering where she must be and why I am being crowded around in her own space, for nobody had seen the Princess since she was a child. Her beauty was known around the Kingdom and the slums of Jorkhan, and when everybody began to cherish the Princess more than they did with gold, for she was much more valuable, the King hid her away behind the castle grounds, in fear of her being pried upon or stolen – Much like I had been.

The girl in the portrait would have resembled all the grim faces outside if it weren't for that extravagant tiara and fuller cheeks. I want to slash the painting with my fingernails and stomp on the stupid grin upon her pretentious face.

I tear my gaze away from the painting and over to the ginger girl, seething behind clenched teeth as I remain on my hands and knees before her, "What am I doing here?"

The girl doesn't answer, instead, she gives a soft order to the servants around her, "Do what you need to." And with that, she goes into the bedroom and leaves me with the servants who begin to lift me by my wrists up to my feet and then lead me into the bathroom to the side. 

Gleaming, granite counter tops, full length mirrors which showcased the fear in my eyes, fluffy towels neatly arranged, the bathroom was made purely out of white marble, where tendrils of black and diamonds bled into the white. The floors were cold to my bare, dirty feet and my legs were trembling as I was led to the corner of the large bath where a small servant told me to undress.

"No." I shook my head and my mouth goes dry at her demand. Beneath these blinding lights, the imperfections on my skin would shine like a beacon and without clothes on, there was nowhere to hide away from these people, who although they were servants, were way higher in their class than I was.

The young servant flicks her eyes to the busy others and returns with a whisper that nobody but I can hear, "Please, other-wise we will get punished."

With her timid words, comes a prickle that slithers up my spine. I glance through the doorway, passed the foyer and into the bedroom where the ginger girl begins to lay out exquisite dresses upon the plush bedsheets. I swallow and furrow my brows in concern,

"Punished?"

The young servant opens her mouth to speak, but another servant cuts her off when she orders her to get the bath prepared. When I am left standing before the tub, glancing around the room with confusion dazzling my mind like a mist in a field, I shudder when I think about undressing in front of the women.

All I wanted to know was why I was in the palace of Jorkhan and why thousands of girls were being put back into First Order vehicles outside the bathroom window. Why had they taken me? Why wasn't I being piled into a car? Why was I in the mysterious Princess' room? Where was she?

The tears begin to weld in my eyes and they bring a painful tug to the apples of my cheeks. Just when they are about to fall, a servant turns around with a tray of soaps all piled among it and to spare one hint of my emotional dignity, I bare another as I strip my clothes before her, timidly.

I begin to untie my blouse with nervous fingers and untuck it from my thick skirt, which I step out of shortly after. The cold air is lace against my skin, the warmth of my blood causing goosebumps as a defence against such ice. When I am left standing in just my undergarments, too fragile and scared to get any more vulnerable, I rip them down and over my skin like a bandaid and cower my privates with my shaking arms.

I glance back over to the girl with the tray of soaps, she's not even looking as she rearranges the various shapes and colours upon the thick silver with tan, chubby fingers.

The girl from before finally speaks again,

"Would you mind getting into the bath, please?"

_Yes._ I think to myself bitterly, but when I turn around and face the pool-like tub that was sunken into the marble, I gasp underneath my breath.

The bath was wide and long, having enough space to fit at least four people without them touching each-other or crossing limbs. The water was more bubbles that liquid and the smell that filled the room was of something much sweeter than I had ever plucked from the orchards.

But that wasn't what shocked me the most, it was the heat that swirled in steam tendrils above the water and into the golden air around my naked flesh. The water was warm, no hot!

I had never had a warm bath in my whole life.

The servant motions to the tub and I follow her lead without hesitation, ready to hide my frame beneath the thick layer of soap and embrace the heat with my cold soul. The water is warm and my goosebumps disappear as my toe dips into the surface.

The water feels like the summer rays against my skin and relax my tensing muscles the moment I submerged myself fully. Sliding down into the back of the tub, I close my eyes and block out the sounds around me of moving servants and pretend I am somewhere else as the fear begins to build once more, this time just burning a place in my chest rather than touching me coldly.

I wish the large tub would expand even further so I could go swimming, like I used to on a hot, summer day with Anwar at the lake by the orchard. Those days were a special treat, if we didn't get caught by the farmers.

Oh, Anwar... My heart pangs.

Layering soaps into the cloth and meeting it with the skin on my back delicately, there's nothing harsh about it as the servants carefully scrub my skin, indulging it in the best aroma my nostrils have ever met, but it still slightly stings against the welts in my back from when I had been caught sneaking out an apple in my skirt pocket, the other week.

The bath alone, has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose, from regulating the water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.

The walls were large format tiles of white honed travertine and the vanities that wrapped around the whole room, other than the balcony behind me, were of the same marble that the floors were made from and the counters were a brilliant white quartz that showcased the hint of gold around.

One golden faucet in this room could set me up in a nice, little home in the rougher areas of town, or even could pay for hot water to run for the entire town, I am sure of it.

I didn't think of myself as a particularly, envious or blood thirsty rebel, but as my eyes fell from one solid gold fixture to the next, my attitude solidified. I hated this place, no matter how nice it was... Because when I return home, if I am given a life to return to, I will only hate my dirty room even more than I already do.

My hands were much more rough than their soft fingertips that danced over my scalp and skin like silk ropes, and the scents that replaced the grime upon my flesh, were pastel and lavish at the same time.

When another servant cleaned the dirt from beneath my nails and removed the strawberry stains from my fingertips, I parted my lips in curiosity as she began to paint another red hue upon the nails.

I whine and move away from the cloth that wipes a soapy lather to the welt on my hand and glance to the servant with furrowed brows.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles, folding the fabric and returning it to my wrist.

I swallow and lick my chapped lips, whispering to her although the three other servants who huddled around the bath, could still hear me, "What am I doing here?" I repeat from earlier.

She shakes her head and flickers her gaze away. "It is not our job to tell you of your purpose in the Kingdom."

Another servant interjects whilst grabbing the ends of my hair and snipping inches away into the bath-water, "Our job is to just make sure you are presentable for the King."

I choke on my own spit and try to turn around, but the scissors in her hands stop me from doing so. My heart is pounding against the water and suddenly it has become cold in my etch to doom.

"The King?!" I blurted.

They all shushed me.

I sunk into the bath even further, "Why am I being presented to the King?"

The girl with the scissors speaks once more, so dismissively that I know I shouldn't ask any further questions.

"It is not our job to tell you of your purpose in the Kingdom." She repeats the previous words of the girl by my hand, as if the phrase was imbedded into the back of their minds.

When the bath is eventually over and they have dried my hair into soft waves, I run my hand through the strands in bewilderment at the lack of knots. My skin is bright red from the heat and no longer is there even a speck of dirt upon me.

When they hand me a large, fluffy towel, I wrap it tightly around my bare frame and I am shocked by how soft the fabric is. It was softer than any grass field or blanket I have ever come in contact with, and it was only a bath towel.

I wondered how soft the Princess' bed must be as I was lead over to it.

Glaring at the ginger girl from before, I notice she no longer clings onto a bag of coins but instead heavy fabrics of clothing that are folded over her arms as she sits on the end of the bed so comfortably as if it were her own.

"Thank you, girls." She nods to the servants with a small, closed smile upon her freckly face. "You may go now."

When the servants all left with a soft creak of the wide door in the foyer, the silence of the space between the girl and I, made my blood as dull as the air that crept through the balcony to the side that peered over the few girls who remained on the open field.

The leaves outside hung limp until they fell on their own accord and there was no whispering noise or rustling as they fluttered onto the stone balcony. I tried to only focus on that whilst the ginger girl only stared at me with narrowed eyes.

"You look remarkably like her." She whispered into the brittle tension between us.

I tore my gaze away and looked back to her, "Like who?" I asked with a perplexed tone and a raise of a brow.

She huffs a short breath and rolls her eyes, standing up from her place on the bed and nudging her head over to the wall where a painted portrait hung sturdy upon it.

The tone of the painting is muted, each stroke having a smudging quality that rendered the image watery, like a reflection in a rippled puddle, but it was still so solid and realistic in the artist's talent.

She's wearing a dress that reminds me of the thick curtains by the windows and her corset is tight around her waist. The crown is ever-present on her head as she stands next to a man who has a matching one upon his brown locks.

The painting was all in bright oils but somehow it was still dark. It reminded me of the poison that can lurk behind a pretty face, she had a look in her eyes that was as bright as her rosy cheeks that were fattened slightly with three warm meals a day. It unnerved me. Like the two of them were looking out from beneath their own skin of paint, like their flesh and bone was no more than a mask as they stared down to me.

Her birthmark is painted finely beneath her eye and as I glance to the mirror beside the painting, I can see what the ginger girl is referring to as I take in the sight of me without all of the dirt and split ends, imagining what I would look like with the benefit of daily meals and a small mark below my right eye too.

I gulp the lump that forms in my throat and dig my nails into the flesh of my palms.

The scepticism I felt was consuming my system like a smothering cloud. My mind became an icy wasteland, the soft summer wind from outside, only howled in my soul and tied golden ropes around my heart so tightly that it almost stopped beating.

_No. This cannot be right._

"Why did you bring me here?" I repeat to the girl behind me, my voice sturdy and demanding.

She hums, "I think you already have an idea as to why."

Anger, pain, confusion, all so intertwined that perhaps their names aught to be tweaked to reflect the true kaleidoscopic mess of emotions that rages in my chest and rattles my weak bones. That was the breaking point of my patience. At that moment of her words, I was blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter and of acid, yet I would eat anything to fill my stomach in this lifetime.

When I spun around on my bare heels, my eyes were dark and the girl slightly flinched for the first time, replacing the shock on her face with a look of indifference as I spat out,

"No! You tell me right now, why am I here?!"

She closes her eyes for a short second and returns the pale blues back onto me,

"The Princess has gone missing." She says, her shoulders falling limply as she scratches a fingernail on the fabric of the dress in her hands, "Jorkhan needs a Princess and you look the most like her out of thousands of girls, so you will replace her whilst in her disappearance."

Her words are like stones that were from a pond of pure shock, which were being thrown against me, one by one. My face contorts into an expression that can't quite figure out the right response to something so unbelievable.

They want me to replace the Princess whilst they cannot find her? It sounds too fake. It sounds like something I had conjured up in a day-dream whilst picking the apricots back on the orchard. I clench my fingers further into my palms and await the fuzzy skin of fruit, but it never replaces the stinging flesh. This wasn't a dream. This was real and I was truely standing in the palace whilst being told I was about to become the girl who was painted on the portrait beside the Prince of Jorkhan.

But she was a royal. I was the scum beneath her heels. The dirt that cried to be buried beneath her nails, but never would... How could they expect me to just accept the fact that I once lived in rags and now I would replace that with riches with no care for the others that I had left in the same place?

Rage builds like deep water currents and my face becomes rigid, jaw clamped tight, teeth grinding together as I grit, "The people of Jorkhan don't see the Princess, what difference does it make if she is here or not?"

The ginger sighs, "With patience in time, comes answers." She tells me once more.

I bite the inside of my cheek to refrain from spitting abuse upon her expensive clothes as she looks to the ones in her hands.

"Now, get changed." She breathes, as if she was bored, "The King is expecting to see you ready and prepared in ten minutes."

A breath hitches in my throat at the mention of the King, but then, she hands me the new clothes in her own. They are heavy and smell no different to my flowery skin. When she turns around, I drop my towel and put them on with no hassle, flickering my gaze to make sure she isn't watching as I slide the undergarments on and then the thick skirt that was woven with delicate hands and etched with velvet chevrons in the deep crimson. The top was of the same fabric but had no patterns and when the girl turned around, she grabbed a corset from the table to the side and walked around me, wrapping it over my waist as I turned to the mirror and looked at my reflection.

I was a traitor to my own kind. I was diabolical in my appearance.

The strings of my corset pull against my insides and tighten my abdomen as it shapes me unnaturally. For a short second, I cannot breathe as she ties it behind my back. I had never seen such fine and rich fabrics, the velvet feeling softer than any fuzz of an apricot. My tears welded and the ginger girl looked into the mirror and noticed the sadness within.

She swallows loudly behind me in the dim silence and flickers her gaze away as her cheeks grow a slight pink hue.

"I am sorry." She says lowly and for a short moment, I think she is actually speaking kind words for the first time, but then they only shift into a small sneer. "I suppose the King never considered that the poor would miss what little they have."

Then turning away, she makes her way to the foyer and I follow with my bare feet pattering against the hardwood floors, hidden underneath my long dress, "Where are you going?" I ask.

She turns just before she reaches the main doors, shrugging and giving me a disinterested look, "The King will see you in here shortly, he doesn't need me here, but if you ever need anything... I am the one you call for."

Her hand reaches for the handle and I take another quick step towards to her.

"What's your name?" I ask, furrowing my brows at her before she opens the door to leave.

She nods her head once, "Ruby."

I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off quickly, "There's no point in you telling me your name... That's not who you are anymore." And with that, she leaves.

The silence was a poison to me, for in that void of sound, the shallowness of our conversation was laid bare and brutal. It was an eerie quiet that was like a restorative draught after the frenetic rush of the day. In the silence, the darkness began to seep in with all this new chaos to my soul, burying itself deep into my aching heart that couldn't keep up. It was thick and heavy, interlaced with the stench of gold that smothered my grimy soul – This isn't where I am supposed to be... This isn't who I am.

I want to burrow back into my slums and forget any of this happened. Surely, if I pretend to be someone who I am not, especially a royal, it is traitorous to The First Order, and yet StormTroopers were the ones who stole me upon the King's request.

I was waiting for the moment where I would crumple, wail or dissolve into tears, but I did none of those things, for the gentle footsteps from the overlooking balcony behind me, made my frigid body tighten even further and I gasped low under my shaking breath.

I turned around, impossibly slow and my toes curled at the silhouette who stood at the far end of the balcony, overlooking the field below. When I slowly made my way over, with hesitated steps and squinted eyes as the suns beam down onto the balcony like a led light to something important.

The King turns.

The man was glutton by all accounts and though he was of a slight build, he seemed to escape the diabolical restraints of food worship in a place where it is so easily accessible for a man of his power. A wisened face peered out beneath a golden crown, which was the only thing on his otherwise bald with a sparse fringe of white, head. His eyes were so heavily lidded and weighed down with wrinkled folds that it was almost impossible to see the blues of his eyes as he smiled to me warmly. I didn't return it.

My own eyes were wide with fear and my lips were pursed tight together as my jaw clenched tightly. I couldn't believe it. I was standing before the King.

A heavy silence settled over my lungs, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. My unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching his that flickered over my features. I grasped my sweaty, nervous hands and wrung the fingers as I realised he was comparing me to his daughter in the back of his head. I felt belittled with just a soft gaze, suddenly realising that I was not the person I truely I am when I am dressed this way and physically resembling the Princess.

I clear my throat.

"Your Majesty." I somewhat, bow, though it felt wrong to do so for I could almost feel the welts in my back burn hotter for they were screaming at me for betraying their pain to the man who was the leader of the ones who had caused them.

When I meet his gaze, he smiles even wider and showcases his white teeth. "You do look exactly like her."

I furrow my brows, "I-Um, I don't really see it." I stutter awkwardly, but he simply waves me off with a wrinkled hand and motions over to a small table, which I hadn't realised was there.

"Sit." The King invites me over, taking a seat on the wooden chair that had plush, red pillows among the surface.

Saliva builds in my mouth. The moment I slide into my chair, I'm served an enormous platter of food that sat before the King and I. Eggs, ham, piles of fried potatoes. A tureen of fruit sits in ice to keep it chilled. Even a basket of bread rolls sat in the centre, enough to keep me fed for at least two weeks. There's an elegant glass of orange juice by my plate and I had never seen a glass so clear in its liquid, for the ones back home were pulpy and had flickers of dirt and seeds within the juice.

My stomach snarled and howled and from it came the not-so-subtle undertone of pain. It came in waves and it seemed as though my stomach was slowly digesting itself in this split second that I had been showcased all this food. I clutched at my bound waist, begging with my subconscious to not pick the eggs up with my hands and pile them into my mouth. I intertwine my fingers in my lap and stare at the plate, trembling in front of the King who watched with curious eyes, and the flicker of a smirk.

"Do you know why you are here, young one?"

I swallow roughly, tersely flickering my gaze from the crispy bacon and to the old man.

"I have a rough inkling." I mutter. "– To replace the Princess?"

The King chuckled and I flinched at the sound which was made so carelessly. In a sudden shift, I imagined a cold, gilded throne that could match the way he laughed so cold and bright.

My stomach churned once more, now battling the forces of both hunger and fury. The King sat here, dismissing the plate before him and laughing almost at my dismay, its a reflection of his own vanity. Who was an enemy within the poor town that I came from, where we competed with each-other for survival, worked hard and laboriously just to afford one roll out of the dozens in the woven basket.

He nods, "Yes, that's the main point of this all." He uses his fingers as quotation marks, the same way Anwar would so casually in our conversations. "It's all a big mess but I am sure with your help, it will all calm soon."

The slow pain was eating away at my stomach and leaving me feeling drained and empty, but I still resisted eating it as the aroma of juice filled my senses. I furrowed my brows and gave him a perplexed tone, "What do you mean?"

The King tilts his head and looks over to me with raised eyebrows as he leans in and begins to cut his bacon with shiny silverware, which I hadn't even considered were placed beside my china plate. I bite my tongue as he bites into the crispy, flaky bacon.

He talks whilst he chews and I have to refrain from wincing.

"You see, my daughter has fled upon the news of her engagement." He roll his eyes.

"Engagement?" I ask, the air in my lungs feeling as heavy as cement.

The Princess fled because she was getting engaged?

"Yes." The King nods, pausing for a moment to swallow, "And it was to a very important person, who could bind this Planet together perfectly with The First Order. So obviously, you can tell why it is so important that she marries him."

I shake my head and scoff, "If The First Order do not know of her disappearance, then how come the StormTroopers were the ones to kidnap us?"

The king chuckles once more, as if I had asked the most stupid question he had ever heard. I dig my nails again into the flesh of my palms.

"The soldiers of the Order are dimwitted and do not have a braincell to think about anything other than the task they have been required." The King says, flicking a tongue to his lip slowly like a snake would do to a mouse, before devouring it. "But, do not worry, young one, for they are upon the impression that we were simply checking upon the disadvantaged of the city. Making sure there are no fevers or anything of that sort to worry about."

It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Everything began to spin around me and upon his words, I wanted to smash all the food to the ground and then smack him in the face.

It was clear where this was going. He wanted me to marry whoever the Princess had been bargained to in The First Order. The King wanted me to unite The First Order with Jorkhan in a way that was almost too perfect for his wallet and pockets of gold.

No wonder, she ran away. If The First Order get a better grip upon this planet, we will all turn into dust or simply, mindless followers; And my people, the poor... We will crumble in their expensive hands and weaponry.

I thought back to the riots that had been brought upon just the sight of The First Order vehicles... What would happen to that part of town if they found out that the King was planning to unite the lethal Order and this Planet into one?

When the people fear the Kingdom there is tyranny. When the Kingdom fears the people there is liberty, but The First Order fear nothing. The First Order were wicked, there is no way they will allow us grimy citizens to bring down the glory of their name... But why would the Princess care about us? Why would she run away and risk the King to not get what he truely wants?

When I speak, my voice trails slowly, like the words are unwilling to take flight. There is a sadness in my eyes, the colour too glossy, "So, you want me to marry someone on behalf of the Princess?"

"Precisely, just until we find her whereabouts and return her home and then so shall you." The King smiles, and upon his words, I glance around the beautiful stones around me and the food on the plates. To return home after all of this would be torturous to my soul.

I glance to the bacon on my own plate, "What if I refuse to pretend to be her?"

He chuckles, finally closing his mouth of chewed food. The King then, points the knife to my own plate and says, "Go on... Have a taste."

I shake my head, ignoring the food, no matter how much my stomach screams at me for doing so, I glance back up at him, staring into the pale blues that had no care for my kind.

"What happens to me if I refuse?"

His smile shifts into something much darker, but the smirk is still there. He gives me a smouldering stare and I could almost feel the evil in him all gnarl together as he withdraws his hands form his cutlery and clasps them together, leaning in on his elbows.

His voice is low and drawls in the space between us. Calling out my fears and slamming a fist onto them to prove the power he can hold above me with a threat.

"I will simply kill you."

I breathed in and out but air wouldn't enter my lungs. Starved for air, my heart raced at tremendous speeds, and my lungs shallowly rose and fell in time. I sat there for what felt like an eternity with my mouth agape, but it was actually only a couple of seconds of agony.

His words were like a knife in my ribs, the sharp point digging deeper into the fear, to which it retracted the blade and used it as its own weapon, jabbing every inch of my innards aggressively.

I shake my head and my chin begins to tremble. No longer do I feel hungry for my need of survival is so overwhelming to the point where I feel as if I am going to vomit.

I didn't spend my whole life, scrambling for scraps and fighting to stay awake every night for I was certain I would die of starvation in my sleep, just to be slaughtered because I refused to give away anymore of my lacking freedom.

Just with a sly smirk, the King knew he had gotten what he wanted. He knew he had won.

"Look at you, so strong and defensive." He sneers at me, though I am slowly crumbling before him. "You know, my late wife was born in the slums and I must say, she was much like you but she learned to love the richer things in life, almost too quickly. I hope you do too."

"I'm not the type of person who should be doing this sort of thing." I grit through my teeth as the tears begin to fall aimlessly down my cheeks. "I can't get used to the finer things in life for it was never intended to be in my reach."

There was anger flooding every corner of my system and it starved all the colour in my eyes. The cold look reflected on his face gave me shudders and in the blue, seemed to be no sense of humanity. My hands trembled at my sides and I desperately wanted to jam my fist into my mouth to stifle a scream.

The King spoke with a calm tone, but I knew deep down he was anything but. This man was cruel, evil and greedy. I always knew he was a man who loved nothing more than money, but selling off his own daughter was unjust beyond words – But he was no longer giving away his daughter to The First Order, he was giving away me... The poor, hungry, orphan girl.

"I am sure you will train your stomach to enjoy being full rather than empty." He smirks.

I glare to him, but he doesn't care, for my empty stomach isn't the only thing keeping me from refusing the order he has given me. It's my life which he dangles in his hands so carelessly.

He speaks once more, glancing down to his still, full plate and wiping a clean napkin over his beard. "You can never train the fire within to dwell behind a crown, but you sure can imitate the person who should wear it."

I stared to my own plate in the grief. The sadness drained through me rather than skating over my skin. "Who am I marrying?"

He purses his lips, looking me down and right through me. I felt so incredibly worthless beneath his gaze that I struggled to stare into his own.

He squints, looking into my eyes as if he was searching for something and then the rest of my face as if he was mapping it out in the back of his mind, though he already knew all the features perfectly.

Then, the King rises from his makeshift throne before me, dropping the napkin onto his plate and chiming the name of my to-be-wedded, before walking away, leaving me lonesome with all this food.

Though, I could devour all of this food in his absence. I don't dare to move or even breathe, I'm frozen to the spot. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and the hairs on my arms stand to attention as a thousand chills trickle down my spine.

My heart begins to pulsate and the beating only gets louder and louder, almost beating to the syllables of the name of the man I am to marry.

_"Kylo Ren."_


	5. Chapter 5

An ominous shiver startled me out of my abysmal nightmare in the melted away morning, where the day was bright blue and the remnants of two, majestic sunrises dwindle in the summer breeze. The bright, midday glow seeped over the horizon as if the light itself was being poured from the warming glass of orange juice that was placed by my bed, obviously a couple of hours ago because the toast has become soggy by the scarlet jam that was spread evenly across it.

My cheeks are sticky from previous tears that had dried in my sleep and my body was bathed in a cold sweat, despite the warm temperature of the grand bedroom. 

The sheets were twisted around my limbs, probably because I was thrashing in my sleep and when I sit up, I notice my heart is pounding against my chest. 

My forth-finger feels heavy already, as if it is torturing itself before it has to get used to being bound by an expensive band that should have never touched my grimy hands. The flesh of my hand looks dull against the orange glow that creeps through the curtains, proving there is melancholy in my soul that is now bathed in riches.

The remnants of my nightmare still clung to my mind, taunting me that no matter if I am in a beautiful place such as this one, I will never belong here and there will always be a price to pay for paradise. 

I breathe in deeply and sigh. A new day has begun, but a new life has taken course also. I try not to think about my nightmare and how terrified Anwar's face was when I was pulled away in The First Order vehicle, for it's more hurtful to my heart when it realises that the fragmentation of a dream is truely the reality that just played in an endless loop in my sleep. 

I can't worry about Anwar. I have to just keep reminding myself that this will all be over soon and that the Princess will be found, forcing me to go back to my true home in the slums – Where I belong.

I shake my head at my own thoughts. No matter how treacherous growing up was, I still belonged in the place that made me strong with the lack of recourses to live. This is just a curse in the disguise of a blessing. 

One obstacle after another, I would rather decline this invitation into marriage for the benefit of the Royal's and return home, but I cannot if I want to keep the heart that thuds in my chest, rhythmical. 

This would be my only trial. My only loss. My only win. I cannot disappoint the King of Jorkhan, no matter how cruel he truely is. 

But even in this glow, all I can see is the green of Anwar's eyes that somewhat, try and beacon me home earlier. All is see is that fiery spark that gleamed brighter than any piece of gold in this room, only it was dulled with the dirt that would smear below the green, against his honey flesh after a hard day of work with the horses. If only he truely knew how he was the the reason of joy that danced in my soul, despite the life that should have crushed it instead. 

I had spent my whole life with Anwar by my side, guiding me and teaching me lessons he had purely taught or made up, himself; But now I was preparing for a deceiving lie that would benefit the very Kingdom he hated more than anything. I was the traitor to his and I's lifestyle... And yet, there is nothing I can do to stop it, for if I tried to, I will truely never be able to see him again and tell him just how he makes me feel.

When my feet finally meet the warm, cleaned and polished, hardwood floors, I stretch my arms above my head and raise an eyebrow to myself when my spine doesn't throb with the pain of sleeping on a thin mattress. Taking one last glance at the pillowy fort that I once sunk into, I bite my bottom lip to suppress a smile at the wonderful sleep I endured until that nightmare crushed it with its sinister grip.

Sliding the curtains open, I only take one look at the plate of breakfast beside my bed, before the bile rises into my throat, thanks to stuffing my face with the food from yesterday, which filled me to the brink. 

I let my eyes roam freely over the hills and green fields before me and I can hear the birds and smell freshness, if I block out the thoughts that swirl my mind aimlessly. 

The landscape was utterly alien to me, yet, the dirt was the same soil that the fruit vines and trees at the orchards I worked at, grew from. This Kingdom didn't look remotely like where I came from and yet, it was the very place that made mine look like the slums they were. 

Letting the warm breeze hit my flesh, I walk barefoot onto the balcony that overlooked the large patch of land, where despite all of the commotion yesterday, looked untouched and the grass was as green as ever. From this view, it makes it seem that the palace was built in the middle of the country-side, but if I turn to the right and squint just enough, I can make out the roof-tops that spread in every direction like great, grey serpents with rectangular scales of ceramic tiles. 

Only the red brick chimneys ruined the illusion, but in this light they were just as monochromatic as everything else back there, with the slate roofs, the swirling smog that came from the parts where I came from. 

From here, I could see what a maze this Planet truely was, how every house and piece of small land bled out to the edge of the horizon. The streets curved as if laid down on a whim a few centuries ago before anyone had conceived of a grid pattern idea and I can see from just this landscape, how the King could look out of his window and grin up to the sky, elated with the knowing that he owns this entire world.

My fear begins to build in my moment of serenity, giddy with the empty space that it can now fill with the claws of its brutal fingers and smothering grip. I feel the wind more keenly in my eyes, knowing I had as much tears left as I had money – None. It's that tearless stage when the eyes take on a sheen of water and a tension builds behind them, but there was not enough power to let them fall because they had all been spent into the silk pillow that felt as if it was the cloud and I was the reason for rainfall. 

It comes as a growing storm in my brain that, quite honestly, is painful in its fearful apprehension. It's different from a headache and it feels the same as intense sorrow, perhaps as a sort of frozen panic with nowhere to go, which is truely what is happening to me.

I was terrified to marry Kylo Ren. 

Marriage isn't a ring worn or a paper signed. It is not something endured but savoured. It is the union of two hearts beating as one, each that would sacrifice for the other's happiness and wellbeing... In my lifetime, I was probably never going to get the privilege of marriage, for nobody living in poverty even attempts to grasp onto a feeling of happiness in the slight chance that the hunger will kill their lover eventually... And I was throwing my only chance of marriage to a man that was supposably the closest thing to the devil after The Supreme Leader of The First Order, himself. 

But, Kylo Ren was the product of The Supreme Leader. He was the next ruler. The First Order was run by those two men, who used aggression for noble purposes, which only left the Universe in ruins by their ravaging. It is said that the Sith Apprentice, Kylo Ren, only had a desire for power and money, that he thinks nothing of making others suffer, so long as he and The First Order can gain advantage in the enemy's disadvantage. 

His aggression could be destructive because he may lack empathy. Kylo Ren was the true weapon of the Order, and he made his own choices with emotional coldness, or none at all. He was the paper-cut to the galaxy's soul, who had given him the power of the force in hopes that he would use it in the light, only for Kylo to bring this Universe into darkness with the help of the growing, First Order.

I feel sick. My lungs are being weighed down by metaphorical boulders of reluctancy. All I can hope for, is that if my destiny truely sees me to not get out of this place, I hope it is the King who kills me and not my cruel, future husband.

This place can force me to imitate the Princess all they want with the threats and glimmers of shiny rewards or full bellies, but I will not purposely go out of my way to feed into Kylo Ren's personal gain or entertainment. No. I will ignore him the same way the Kingdom ignore the grimy parts of Jorkhan. 

"You're finally up." A monotoned, voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

I turn to meet it and find the girl from yesterday, Ruby, to be standing in the open archway of the bedroom that peers out to the balcony in which we stand. Her hair was in waves that softly reflected the light of the sun with the orange tinge that the strands already were. She held herself as if her spine was made of led, so straight that her shoulders even arched back in the stance of power. 

She gave me a subtle smirk, but it wasn't one that proved kindness in her next words, "I came earlier this morning and I presumed you to be dead from the way you slept so heavily."

I purse my lips together tightly and turn back to the landscape that extended below the balcony and suddenly, my knuckles gripped the stone railing, pleading for my mind to not give into my hearts desires and jump off the side.

"I suppose, that is what you truely wished to find when you came back, then." I say to her, though she still stands still in the archway, "But much to your dismay, I am still alive."

I roll my eyes. 

She hums low behind me, and I know she still has that stupid smirk upon her face, and maybe even the raise of her light eyebrows which matched the colour of her freckles perfectly. 

"I suppose, you may be right." Ruby chimes, sighing shortly before she continues, "But because you are alive, that means we truely are running behind schedule now."

I flip back to her and my hair sways behind me in the hot wind. Furrowing my brows, a lump rises in my throat, because I suppose, I didn't truely think that I would have to do anything other than marry, Kylo Ren and then retire to my quarters before people realised I wasn't the missing Princess of Jorkhan.

"Schedule?" I give her a perplexed tone, whilst ignoring her sly sneer, "What is happening today?"

Her smirk turns into a small smile. Maybe, that is a step forward in her hostility but every smile that lit up her features was of the wrong sort. It's like she ran on cold malice instead of any form of genuine affection. Perhaps, she was a baby that was left to cry, or someone that was born so rich that she loathed those who came from the poorer areas like I did – Either way, I didn't like her as much as she didn't like me. 

"Yes, schedule..." Ruby nods and says it in a tone that sounds like I was supposed to magically, already know, "You are to be fitted for gowns and now, the tailor is going to be rather irritated that she will have less time to make tomorrow night's gown."

I glance further into her pale, blue eyes with a face riddled with confusion. My mouth pursed but then hung slightly open and loose. I blink once and try to refocus as the apprehension in my chest begins to build... What ever is tomorrow night, cannot be good for my timid stance and lack of preparation of a life lived in lies is not up to pare, especially if it needs a tailor-made gown that could be one worn by the Princess.

"What's tomorrow night?" I ask, my mouth going dry and my shoulders falling down slightly at just the glance of her stiff ones. 

Ruby only rolled back her shoulders and observed as her eyes were drawn downward to the golden pin on her chest and then back up to me as if she was bored. Tossing her ginger hair, over her shoulders, she smacked her lips and motioned to the room behind her as she then turned on her heel and began to shout her words as she went inside.

"The banquet to celebrate Kylo Ren's arrival." Ruby yelled and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest and onto the polished floors as I meet her in the bedroom, "Hurry up." She rolls her hand in the air at me, ignoring my blown eyes and trembling lips.

"B-Banquet?" I stuttered. "Kylo Ren's coming tomorrow night!?" 

_I'm not prepared._ Dread sets my face stiff but trembling at the same time as my teeth locked tight together, whilst slivers of gum was torn in the midst of it all, drawing blood against the insides of my cheeks. The same words keep going over and over in my mind as Ruby positions me in front of the mirror by holding her hands on my loose shoulders: I am not prepared. 

No matter how nice the servants clean me. No matter how nice they dress me... I am not prepared to be someone I am not. 

The smile of the Princess in the painting, sneers at me as I stand below; It is as if she is laughing at my misfortune that she had run from herself, whilst her brother only stares hauntingly next to her. 

Ruby peers over my shoulder, nonchalantly and tries to comb my hair with a thin brush, "No, not tomorrow." She hums and I let out a small sigh of relief before hissing in pain when she tugs on a thick knot.

To my dismay, she continues speaking, "He's arriving today."

I choke on my own spit.

Fear floods my system whilst adrenaline pricks sharply at my skin and beats in my heart like it's trying to escape before his arrival. I think my chest will explode and my eyes are wide with fear. I try to move, but Ruby only slaps me in the head lightly with the wooden comb to put me back in place.

"Today?!" I scratched. She rolls her eyes like it is her specialty. 

"Soon actually." She nods and tuts in my ear, which is throbbing with every rapid beat of my heart below this thin cloth of bed-wear, "Don't sweat too much, though. You won't actually see him until the banquet, where the King will formally introduce you two."

I gulped as she throws the comb onto the bed and then picks up the dress she had obviously brought in with her as she unzips the many layers of fabrics from four different tailor bags. 

"I'm not ready, I don't know anything about the Princess." I panicked, looking at myself in the mirror and then switching to watch her movements in the reflection. I clench my fists by my frigid sides to refrain from punching the mirror into tiny pieces, similar to the one shard that I had back home where the edges were sharp against the palms of my hands, "I can't act like her and people are going to know that I am just some sad, poor, orphan girl who has never even seen enough food to fill my plate, let alone a banquet!" 

Tears which I had presumed to be run out, begin to slowly and thinly, trickle down my cheeks. I wipe them away quickly. 

Ruby glances my way, carrying over a heavy skirt which she has attached above the under-layers already, and she looks at me through the mirror with those blue eyes which look as if they have been touched by sapphires. I had never seen any expression other than the icy tone of indifference in those blues, but they somewhat shifted as she watched me tremble before her with the overwhelming anxiety that ran down my spine.

"You look just like her, so nobody but the Princess' closest peers will realise if you mess up." Ruby sighs, flicking her tongue to her canine and then continuing as her stiff shoulders fall slightly, "I will teach you everything you must know before tomorrow night's banquet."

Despite her words, my heart still thudded against its cage of bones harshly, but looking into her now, calm eyes, I became mesmerised in the truth they portrayed. I flicker my gaze back to myself and compare it to the Princess' painting above. In my reflection, I could see the pain beneath the tones and my soul drowning in a persona which I had carved to fit into a world of indifference and survival, but now, that world was crashing down – Although, not to rubble but rather, melting into a solid gold which resembles the crown that Ruby places above my head once I am finished getting changed into the heavy gown she had chosen for me. 

I want to stop my world from changing, just to diminish the sad look of my reflection, but the best I can offer myself is a void of emotions, one where I can pack away my past into the darkness of said, void, and only return it back to the daylight when it is time to return home. 

When I arch my shoulders up straighter by command of Ruby and tilt my chin too, I swear the paint Princess, no longer sneers at me with the soft lips that were painted perfectly upon her face, but now her eyes somewhat, glare into my soul, as if the painting knows I am mimicking someone who I am not on the inside. 

The Prince beside her never changes in his pastel smirk and charm. 

The cold look that reflected on the boy's face gave me shudders. He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and shiny. His eyes were a deep brown that were so dark, they looked almost black.

I swallowed loudly and tore my gaze away before those browns burned into my soul also.

"What about him?" I point my finger to the painting, "Does he know about all of this?"

Ruby glanced his way and rolled her eyes whilst scoffing, "Prince Dayvis?" She said, rather than asked, eyes narrowed and head tilted to let her hair dangle. "Yeah, he sure knows but he won't be a problem, the King sent him to go train with The First Order to become an Apprentice of some-sort."

I chuckle lightly beneath my breath, but let it die as soon as I remember that is the Prince of Jorkhan, I am laughing about. Turning to face Ruby, I cocked an eyebrow as she began to pick up the dreaded, corset from yesterday because until I get fitted, none of the Princess' clothes will properly fit my frame. 

"He's becoming a Sith?" I ask, "Is he even a force-sensitive?"

"Nope." Ruby says nonchalantly, popping the 'p,' at the end of her words, "But he's an entitled Prince, he can get whatever he wants and if he wants to play pretend, then the King shall let him..."

She wraps the corset around my waist and I breathe in deeply in anticipation, but I am only proven how bad of an idea that truely is as she tightens it roughly with the laces and nearly winds me completely as she scowls at the back of my head. 

Ruby scoffs and I know the harsh words are coming before they even seep off her sly tongue, "Kind of like your situation, in some messed up way. You're both just playing dress ups."

I flinch as she tightens it further, holding onto the golden frame of the mirror and grimacing. 

"I didn't ask for any of this." I wheeze. 

Tying the back with quick, dainty fingers, Ruby only shakes her head and ignores my words. The anger from her eyes showed the resentment in her cold heart, as all the previous hints of brewing warmth, all starved from the blues of her eyes. 

It seemed that Ruby wasn't mean out of malice, but rather an exaggerated sense of self preservation, or she was easily irritable and could only cope with harsh words and features.

I turn and speak once more, my voice coming off soft and almost losing its path over to her as she walked back to the bed to pack up her things. 

"Why do you hate me so much?" I ask, "I mean, you were part of the whole process and you chose me... So why do you act like you are the one being forced into something?"

Her movements halt, as if she is frozen solid as she glares to the bags in her hands and her mouth parts at my sudden words. I see her shoulders tense and the way her jaw clenches in anger as she only flickers her eyes to the side and then slams a palm against the mattress forcefully. I flinch as she storms over with a raised finger. 

"Just because you are suddenly wearing a golden crown, doesn't change your level of authority, so don't talk to me like I am below you!" Ruby grits through her teeth, but her eyes are welding and suddenly, I realise that her walls are crumbling down as she stops her footing and swallows, closing her eyes before she gives into the rage completely as I apologise profusely with my arms held up defensively. 

She shakes her head slowly, trying to calm down as she spits her next words before she never lets them go instead. She sighs, craning her neck into the air and then dropping her gaze back onto me, "The Princess was my best-friend... And just because you're pretending to be her, doesn't mean that I am supposed to pretend to like you in return."

A silence lays her conversation to rest as I stare with shocked features. 

I watch her face, entranced – The morning light reflects off her skin and dances in her blue eyes. I can see them now, and it is as if the admission had brought them into the light: She has laughter lines, which must be from smiling easily and her personality is all there to read in those creases; Maybe, she isn't as hostile as I had expected, but rather instead, refusing to allow the replacement of her best-friend... I mean, how would I feel if someone tried to replace Anwar?

I open my mouth hesitantly to speak, but no words draw, only the sound of rattling objects and vibrations that muffle our ears.

At first, neither of us move but I hold out my hands to keep my footing as my brain was unable to make sense of the sudden input, for a fraction of a second. The ground is moving and the noise is like extended thunder, only worse because the vibrations are coming from below and outside the balcony.

Then, every object in the bedroom rattles as if all of the horses in town were stampeding down the Kingdom. I glance over to the hot, glass of orange juice by my bed and watch it vibrate to the edge of the table, until it falls and shatters on the hardwood floors with a mess of broken glass and an orange that closely resembles the sun that beams behind the space-shuttles outside the archway.

My eyes widen and I gasp. 

"Wait!" She calls for me and tries to grab onto my wrist, but I only snatch it away from her and continue running over to the balcony. 

_Please, don't be what I think it is._

Meeting the summer air, I could almost feel my brain rattling against my skull as I lifted my skirt and ran to the edge of the balcony, almost nearly, actually throwing myself off the side this time. The whole Kingdom resonated with the deep grumble of the straining engines which came from the two, large space-shuttles that made their destination the untouched grass of the fields, where only yesterday, a thousand girls knelt on with shackles and grim faces. 

The shuttles roared and the hot wind buffeted around them, rocking it ever so slightly as they levelled to the ground. Even as the engines turned off, my unease never halted as I stared down and Ruby hesitated by the archway.

When the railing of the shuttles drop, the sound of thudding feet on metal, tug on my heartstrings and after watching multiple StormTroopers glide out of the shuttle, I dig my nails into the palms of my hands, hoping that was all that was coming to the Kingdom for now.

But, I am proved wrong.

The darkness swirled around my vision almost blinding me with nervousness as the emotion draws tendrils of inkling bleak which are reminders of my dread, into the corners of my vision, as it meets the figure who emerges out of the shuttle in thick, black clothing, with a cloak and shiny lightsaber which glimmers in the sunlight and reflects into my eyes almost, purposefully. 

I start to feel a overwhelming sense of anxiety that I had never felt before. Everything and nothing folded into me, constricting my lungs and stomping on my heart until I was gasping with dizziness and an urge to vomit as he looks my way suddenly.

Face strong and defined, his features looked inhuman as a prominent jaw curved gracefully around the strength of his neck that showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body. His long, raven hair seemed soft, even from his far and as I tilt my head, the heavy crown above my head, does the exact same thing his lightsaber did, and reflects against his porcelain features. 

His pink lips formed a small smirk and his hands were wrapped in black, leather gloves, to which he raised one and gave me a small, two-fingered wave.

The fear builds in my chest as so did all of my walls around my fragile heart. When the realisation hit me in the midst of that sinister smirk which will haunt me forever-more, the planet instantaneously stopped spinning and instead, shifted into a raging sense of unclarity and dismay.

The man below was draped in deep shades of black and mercury, all together forming a thousand hues that clashed with the dancing kaleidoscope of this bright world of greens and golds – Somewhere where he never belonged in his life of darkness. 

The man looked as out-of-place as I did.

The man was, Kylo Ren.


	6. The Banquet

There is a hurricane inside of me.

The lightning was just the expelled air in my quaking lungs and the crippling winds that thrashed upon my erratic heart, made the storm only strengthen in my misty fears.

Waiting in a hidden room by the great hall of the palace, my mind played constant loops that smothered my conscience with reiterated and fabricated scenarios of what could happen in the next couple of hours.

Ruby told me that I should be fine if I remember the courtesy and manners of a royal, which she had skimmed lightly over with me today – But to most importantly, stay quiet with anyone who tries to talk to me. It's the easiest way I can refrain from giving away my imitation and false portrayal of someone that I was clearly never meant to be, despite how similar we look – Ruby had even drawn on, that famous birth mark of the Princess, below my eye.

But that doesn't stop those blood-thirsty scenarios, which keep clawing their way into my nerves and feeding the roots of my fears to watch them grow. Sitting on a plush couch, lonesome in my extravagant gown, my stomach heaved and every cheer or brush of laughter that passes by the thick door, feels as if the banquet quests were unknowingly, arriving to my own execution or grave.

My knuckles whitened and my face lost all sense of colour or life in the flesh. Ruby told me to wait here patiently until she comes back to bring me into the banquet, after the elite guests who were invited, had settled into their seats. But that was almost forty minutes ago, and though they all might be, _I am definitely not settled._

In the sensory overload that is, the quiet room, my limbs tingle and my brain races in the most unhelpful way as my eyes become wild, searching for anything to distract me in the flowery wallpaper that wraps around this small space.

But in the forty minutes, I have grown the ability to remember where every flower blossoms upon the paper and when there's no distraction in their pastel petals, is when I wrap my hands around my knees beneath the heavy fabric of my dress and begin rocking.

The swaying eventually becomes faster and faster until I explode into motion again. Jolting onto my trembling feet and pacing the room like a horse would pace a stable.

The hurricane inside my chest, swirled as if it has been restrained for time and it was determined to outrun any light that tried to shine within. Above the heavy beat of my heart, the sounds of the banquet, with loud conversations, glass and porcelain clattering and the sounds of strange songs being played in the background of it all, burns into my eardrums as if howling with distaste of my soon arrival.

The sound of it was a strange song, and the true melody was played by strums of guitars and heavy beats upon drums, which played a tune that I had never heard before. The change in atmosphere was abrupt and startling, and I haven't even entered the hall yet. It was surprising to my fear, which was as welcomed as the soft knock on the door.

Her head pokes in and so does her curling hand, "Come. It's time."

I gasp softly beneath my breath and look at Ruby with wide eyes of apprehension. But she doesn't care for my nerves or dismay, for she only grabs onto the sleeve of my dress and tugs me out of the small room and into the now, empty hallway.

As she leads me to the hall, my heels click on the surface of the floors and my ankle nearly caves at this new angle, which the tailor had forced my foot to stand in. The thoughts are accelerating inside my head and I want them to slow so I can breathe, but they won't.

"I-I don't want to do this." I stuttered to Ruby, who's hair was carefully braided once again and her dress was a deep crimson which clashed against the green of my own, but never-less, they were both crafted with hands that were used to the gold which would replace the expensive fabric they had used to create these wonderful dresses, which swayed by our sides.

Ruby only huffs a short breath and gives me one glance, not letting go of my arm incase I muster up the courage to run away. "Too bad. It will be fine, just remember what I taught you."

My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will black out, "To stay quiet?! How am I suppose to stay quiet when Kylo Ren is trying to talk to me about our union?!" I cowered into my shoulders, as my footing becomes messy in their placement behind her own.

The sounds of the banquet are becoming louder and louder, the more she drags me down the twining paths of the palace and I presume her to be ignoring my last words when she stops in front of two, golden doors that have vines and family crests all etched into the element beside the thick handles. Two StormTroopers guard the door, side by side and I gulp as Ruby leans in to whisper something softly into my ear before they bow down and open the golden entry to the raving banquet.

"Kylo Ren is too self-absorbed to notice that you are not who you pretend to be." She hushes, "He only cares about the power you and your Kingdom will give to him... Along with the benefit of your beauty."

My jaw dropped. The hall was a grand space, nothing like the barn back on the orchard where the girls scrambled for rotten food. The walls were stone and pillars held up the far end that met a wide and opened balcony.

Mahogany tables all lined the surrounding areas, but left a small aisle for us to walk down, over to the larger, horizontally placed, table that was littered with golden plates and decorations which the King and his most trusted sat among.

Instead of light-bulbs, tall, golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, commanding attention to the grand space with the white candles, whose wax never dripped.

The music was so loud that it made my skin tingle and my lungs feel like mush. The drums thumped in time with my heart beat as though they were one, filling me from head to toe with unfamiliar music that played like the bells of a funeral. Over the roar of music, a distant, hazy chatter could be heard.

Parts of the crowd was singing the songs and others yelled over the sounds to speak with the people around them. The atmosphere was one of elation, the warm summer air occasionally punctuated by whoops and hollers as it breezed through, even in the dark night.

Everyone wore expensive fabrics and their skin was all clear of dirt that proved a hard day of labour. When some noticed our arrival, they turned and their eyes lightened with elated joy that was as fake as the women's eyelashes and men's toupeés, as they suddenly, crowded around us and tried to shake a greeting into my hands.

I snap my grip from the prying, gloved hands and etch closer to Ruby, who leans in once more and whispers,

"Just stay quiet and replace your words with a bright smile." Ruby drops her hand from my sleeve and intertwines her fingers with my own, faking a grin that resembles one of a best-friend and muttering her words between clenched teeth, "And don't act so shocked. Gold and food are nothing out of the ordinary for you."

She eventually leads me over to the large table at the end of the room and I flinch my gaze away from the King when I notice his piercing blues upon me and a smirk above his white beard. The man from below my balcony, Kylo Ren, wasn't here yet, and that was the only soothing information that dwindled the panic in my heart as I was placed before the King awkwardly, who stood from his golden throne and opened his arms for a hug.

I hesitated for a split second, but when I feel the piercing eyes all slayed upon me, I swallow my apprehension and fall, stiffly into his arms. My cheek lays upon the golden pin above his heart, and behind the gold, I can hear the cruel beat.

"Ah, my Daughter!" The King breathes into my hair and I flinch slightly once more. He pulls away after a while, but still holds onto my forearms as he gives me a smile that hides behind his thick, coily beard. "As beautiful as ever." He hums and the bile immediately rises into the bottom of my throat, like thick and torturous acid.

His blues stare intently into my eyes and I can almost see the threats that swim in the oceans.

My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a cowering rabbit who has met a dead end in its run for safety from a predator. The room spins and I blink harshly, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so sick, but just as I open my mouth to return a lie, the man beside the King chimes into our conversation.

"Princess!" Beer bellied and soft faced beneath the mess of a brown beard which climbed up his face like weathered vines, the man stood from his chair and opened his arms out as wide as the King once did. "Don't forget about me, now."

Wide eyes and pupils dilated, I glanced between the stranger who was not a stranger in my imitation and then over to the King for some directions as Ruby sat down on a seat a couple away from me. The King only chuckled lightly, falling into soft coughs that he forced into his handkerchief afterwards, before looking back to the brown haired man.

I gulp and embrace the man, forcing a fake smile onto my face as I pulled away quickly. He smelt of pinecones and musk, a stark difference to the rosy scent of the King.

My mind was swirling with so many questions, but as I looked into the blue eyes of the stranger who grinned so brightly down to me, only one was at the forefront of them all.

Who was he and why was he upon the table of the most trusted workers of the King?

The King seems to answer my question in a subtle way, as if he had read my mind.

"It's been a couple of years since you have seen your Uncle, hasn't it?" The King slants his eyes behind the man, directing the message in the blues only to me.

_Time to play along._ They said, and when the threat swam in his eyes once more, I only complied to the secret words as I wished to keep my life, no matter how fake it now is.

"Yes." I croak, my voice sounding rough against my throat as I had been clenching it tight all this time. I wondered suddenly, how the Princess spoke – Was our voices, strikingly different? I suppose not, for the King only gave a subtle nod and the Uncle laughed.

"Two years away and you have grown shy?" He jokes, patting me twice on the shoulder with his rough, wrinkled hands, "You didn't think that I wouldn't come back for your wedding, did you?"

All the air around me, sucks right into my soul upon his words and waves of heat coursed through my blood, whilst a cold sweat glistened at the back of my neck. In the midst of shock and wild panic, I stuttered incoherent words, whilst trying to mask it all with a bright smile as the Uncle cocked a thick eyebrow.

"Thank you!" I eventually spat out of the jumble as my cheeks turn crimson. Turning swiftly on my heel, I practically ran over to the chair beside Ruby and sunk low into the plush seat as she stopped her conversation with the man beside her and turned to me.

"What happened?" She grumbled, already knowing something wrong has happened as I stare at the crowd through the empty wine glass that sits before me.

My chin trembles as my stomach churns, "I didn't know that her Uncle was going to be here." I hushed beneath my breath and she scoffs.

"And what? He caught you off guard?" Ruby snaps a finger before my face and I jolt up in my seat, the silverware chiming around my empty plate as I do so. "Snap into it. Did you never consider the fact that the whole royal family will also be here for your wedding day?"

I gasp and slowly turn to her.

She shakes her head, "Get a grip. Relax your shoulders and just wait for your fiancée's arrival."

The sick in my stomach only sways like a riptide, threatening eruption in the nerves that prickle my skin and course my boiling blood. The golden crown upon my head almost became as heavy as the weight upon my shoulders and as I glance through the busy crowd and to the golden doors, my sight imagines the Apprentice waltzing on through with his raven hair and rosy smirk.

Kylo Ren was already entitled with power and it even ran through his crimson blood the moment he was born, what use am I to him? What does The First Order, truely need from Jorkhan? Sure, the Kingdom is rich, but we have never had power nor an efficient army for them to use, so what do they truely want in return for this union?

_What would be the consequences if they found out we were deceiving them?_

I lick my lips subtly and swallow loudly before I speak, "What happens if Kylo Ren finds out?"

I turn back to Ruby, and her pale cheeks tinted red as those long fingers spread towards me, reaching for my empty glass and then pulling the golden jug from the middle, pouring a crimson wine of sweet plums into the glass and setting it into my hands, as she noticed a couple of men staring our way, noticing our off-stance. She fake smiles and waves them off and I glance over too, pulling the glass of wine to my lips and letting the liquid rest above my mouth, but not seep onto my tongue.

Ruby speaks behind her fake smile once more, laughing as if I had said the funniest thing she had ever heard, she glances over my shoulder and to the King who sits among his throne once more. "I think you know that answer as much as I do... But you won't be the only one punished."

My heart pangs with realisation and my stomach only tightens. "Will you–"

The sound of the golden doors opening, cut me off.

My eyes were trained on the spectre of his entrance, my heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink, as the irises expanded and nearly shoved away all the colour that surrounded the man who walked into the banquet. Many conversations fall to a deadly silence upon the sight of Kylo Ren at the back of the huddle, who enters with hooded eyes and a scowl upon his face, but the other half of the crowd were too drunk to notice, continuing in their shouts.

It was as if my brain was suffering a massive short circuit and was struggling to compute as I trembled in my seat, shoving my hands underneath my thighs as I almost drop the filled cup that I once held. He moved into my line of sight beneath the flickering candle flames of the chandeliers. Face strong with a litter of freckles around the deep, brown eyes that drew me in, I was reminded of the beauty that came with the damaged and beastly soul within.

Those harsh eyes meet mine and the scowl shifts into a pensive smirk as he and his men, made their way over to the empty seats along the King's table. My breathing slows in realisation and my eyes widen before him as he is the last to curve around the end of the dining table. Every muscle in my body becomes tight as they sprung for action to run away, but I only sit tight as the King rises from his throne and meets Kylo Ren at the end, shaking his hand and then the hands of The First Order elite.

His gaze poured gasoline onto the spark of fear in my belly. My heart began to beat incredibly fast but I tried to calm it with hallow breaths. The nausea was overwhelming with the concoction of the fear that coated the blood in my veins, but I made sure it didn't prick my flesh or facial muscles. As the King and The First Order members introduced each-other, my complexion remained pale as I bit my bottom lip lightly, tasting the remnants of the wine which I let sit upon it.

I have never tasted rich wine before, so I presumed it to taste of sweet berries and vanilla – But upon first taste, I grimace at the bitterness and try to scrape the hints of plum off my dry tongue with my teeth as I look away from Kylo Ren and turn to face Ruby, who sips from her wine like it is the only thing keeping her fuelled.

Though, I nearly grab the glass once more and chug down the rest when I hear,

"Come." The King says, waving over Kylo Ren, as if he wasn't the Universe's most deadliest soldier, "Meet my Daughter, the Princess of Jorkhan."

The footsteps behind me, echo in my ears louder than any bass or drum in this hall. When a wrinkled hand is placed upon my right shoulder, I turn and stare at it with wide eyes as it should have felt as light as wispy air, but baring with my secret responsibility, it weighed as much as the crown upon my head.

"Daughter," The King greets to me once more, and slowly, I glance up to the old man, ignoring the way I can see the tall and dark, Kylo Ren, standing beside him. He glances to the Apprentice too and my heart goes into a discrete sense of panic.

"Meet your betrothed, Kylo Ren."

My stomach was spinning, just as much as the whole hall was also twirling around me, but when I met his deep, brown eyes, it seemed as though he was the gravity in the midst of it all, as all my focus was laid to rest upon him. I swallow a nervous lump of bile down and my lips slightly tremble before I force them into a tight, uncomfortable smile. I stand from my chair and give the man a curtsy, the same type of one that Ruby had shown me, as my knees crack from underneath my dress.

"It's an honour to finally meet you, Sir, Ren." I greet and my voice sounds unnatural in its kind tone.

From above, I watch the way his face twitches into that familiar smirk and just as the surroundings around him begin to spin once more in the blast of heavy music, he speaks in a low and deep tone, a voice that is so uncommon to my ears to which they burn my cheeks crimson in the rough and raspiness.

"The pleasure is all mine, Princess." He said.

The King gives me a coy smile and I want to smash the silverware behind me, into his face in order for him to go away, but when he nods his head once and announces he will return to his chair and for us two to, _get to know one another,_ I only give him a harsh gaze that begs for him to stay as he leaves.

Kylo stares intently at me and as the burning feeling of timidness prickles harshly at every inch of my skin, I swiftly turn on my heel and sit back into my plush chair beside Ruby, who whispers for me to calm down as Kylo takes the empty seat next to mine.

He grabs the empty glass before him with his hand that was covered in black leather and the man who joins the chair beside him, slides down the jug of wine with a face that mimics the way my heart is featuring as he wore a grimace as if he had a smell beneath his nose.

Kylo Ren notices me glancing to the stranger and clears his throat before speaking, "Princess, this is General Hux, of The First Order."

General Hux flickers his pale eyes to me, and his face never shifts as he nods.

"An honour to meet you too, General." I mutter, ignoring Kylo's eyes which flickered upon my face of simple make up and fake birth marks.

Hux was blessed with an unusual amount of height, not much smaller than Kylo but he lacked the bulk. He has the face of a stern statue, eyes only rolling as he listens to the words of the man who then sat beside him. With his pale eyes, freckly skin and ginger hair, he reminded me strikingly of the woman beside me, who was also conversing to the guests around her.

Kylo and I were in an awkward tension, but I feel as if I am the only one who is being smothered by the uncomfortable silence. I reach for my own glass, not caring for the bitter aftertaste that sits upon my tongue as I swish down a mouthful of the wine.

The silence lays on my skin like acid seeping into my bones, banishing the blood in my veins and forcing the heat out of my body in terrified sweat beads. I keep swiping at my forehead and patting a shaking hand onto the back of my neck throughout the next couple of minutes as Kylo Ren begins to take in the surroundings as I act as if I am not in an unfamiliar place also.

"You're nervous?" He breathes beside me, but doesn't turn his head as the King stands and introduces the dinner which servants carry in on heavy silver platters.

I glance to the raven haired man from my peripherals and huff a trembling breath, "I-Ah. No?" I lie, but it didn't matter anyway, for the words came out and proved their deceit in their unsure carry.

Kylo Ren chuckles lowly and shakes his head.

In this moment, as all the dinner plates are being placed before us and everyone else in the hall, scraping silverware takes over the noise and eyes all pay attention to the hot meals that looked as if they were boiled in gold also.

_In this moment,_ nobody is even paying attention to The First Order Apprentice, nor me, _the Princess of Jorkhan._

Kylo Ren hums and tilts his head towards me, but still, his dark eyes never set upon me as he picks up his silver cutlery with his leather hands, and inspects the pile of vegetables which are tucked to the side of silver, leaving the rest bare.

I furrow my brows at the plate, for this is more food than I would get in a day back home, and yet, the plate looked somewhat empty in a feast like this.

Remarkably, vegetables were more expensive than fruits in the slums, for most likely any fruit you were buying was stolen, snuck out beneath the dirty rags of a fruit picker. But the vegetables? The farms that grew the mess on my plate, were all located on the Northern areas of Jorkhan, where the rich of the city, slowly bled out into the country-side.

You were lucky if you got a steaming plate of vegetables back home, especially if it didn't come from a can – And here I sit, in the palace with half a plate full and a hall filled with people who barely look at the fortune of produce, and await the real plate filler that the King boasts about from his throne.

The roasted vegetables exuded white wisps which etched themselves into the cold air that seeped through the balcony behind the table, stretching out the aroma like a warm caress to my nostrils. I grab onto my own cutlery with white-knuckled hands and prepare to scoop some peas onto my silver fork, but Ruby stops me with a subtle glare. I drop the cutlery. She turns back to watch the King, as he holds out a hand to the golden doors at the end of the room, which open on his command, and in comes hundreds of servants with meat on their plates.

They all place the meals before the guests, but never come close to our table. But then all at once, a full, spit-roasted pig was rushed inside, with its skin a sizzling, golden crackling in its overcooked state as a pole was lodged into its body and its jaw was pried open around a crimson apple that looked like it was made of plastic from all the grease that seeped around it.

Two servants had harmonised their heavy breathing with the screeching wheels of the cart as they push the pig to be sat in front of the King. My stomach lurched at the sight of the steam forming tendrils in the air above it as the guests cheered, causing waves of nausea to overlap my misery. It wasn't the crispy meat that set me off, it was the soft smiles of already full-stomachs inside the people around me, who only cheered for the pig once, before sipping back onto their wine and cutting slithers of the meat from their plate, as if it was something to keep their jaw moving in between talking and boasting about their wealth.

Cuts of the pork had been served with a refreshing fruit sauce and I wondered for a second if I had plucked any of the apples that had been crushed into this wasted sauce, easing the perfectly cooked meat down. My chin trembled as I stared at the slice of meat from my plate and then glancing to the cut in the flesh of the pig, the rest of the animal, seemingly wasted. That pig could feed my entire suburb, for at least two weeks and we still wouldn't waste any parts.

It was sickening to my core. How dare these people sit here and boast about their wealth and advantages, whilst people are dying of starvation only a couple of miles away!? How is it fair, that I once scrambled for scraps, the same way they all did, and yet, here I sit now with a roast steaming on my silver plate, and I can't find the heart to even eat it?

As everyone indulges and becomes more drunk, I only push around my peas as Kylo Ren talks with the General beside him and shakes the hands of elite members of the Kingdom who congratulate him.

I feel as paraded as the pig, when one man boasts about how lucky Kylo Ren is to be given me, for I am the beauty of the Kingdom.

He doesn't only walk over, but stumbles as the golden pin on his suit glimmers into my peripherals as I listen to his slurs. Each foot comes over as if the collision of shoe and hardwood wasn't entirely anticipated and the person lurches, stumbles, but eventually regains his footing by General Hux's chair.

"Good to see you two again!" He pats the General on the back, as his other hand goes to do the same to Kylo Ren but hesitates as if he knew any better. "Congratulations of your engagement! Jorkhan is a wonderful planet and I have loved it here the moment The First Order sent me here to work for the Kingdom –" I meet his sly gaze for a second. He continues his messy words and I can smell the wine in his breath from here.

"– And let me tell you, this one –" He points his glass over to me, " – The Princess. She's always been a beautiful girl... She's truely, the golden coin to the thousands of pennies of the city."

I look away and my stomach grumbles painfully, although, for the first time in my life, I am not hungry.

Yes, I am that pig in the centre, who the people all cheered for but never truely cared enough to wonder how it was slaughtered. I feel as dead on the inside as it is, but when Kylo Ren only replies with a gruelling smirk and the wave of a leather hand as if he is proud of his advancement, I suddenly realise, that I am not the pig, he is. I am just the apple in his mouth.

Oh, if these people only knew that I was also a penny. A dirty. Dusty. Penny.

After the pork, had come the desserts, the servants placing a slice of a strawberry cake on the table in front of everyone, to which the King and his brother skipped to go onto the balcony with thick cigars as they spoke of nothing but hushed business.

The pastry had been light, both in texture and colour, with a thick dark brown crust, all of which contrasted with the beautiful cherry red sauce that poured out of it, but like my pork, I only played with it with the tip of my fork, never letting it meet my lips like the wine did.

"Not hungry?"

His voice was so deep. Like nothing I had ever heard before. He had that rich, silky tone, which speaks as if he controls the world, his experience seeping through – And I guess, once our marriage is finalised, he truely will own this planet, and be on his way to rule the rest of the galaxy alongside the cruel, First Order.

I licked my dry lips and glanced over to Ruby, who was too invested in her own conversation to somewhat help me. "I-I feel unwell, actually." I nodded, refusing to look into his eyes which practically burnt a hole into my cheek as he stares towards it.

Kylo sighs and pushes away his plate of soft desert and leans on his right elbow, "That's a shame..." He murmurs for only me to hear, "I was anticipating getting to know you as quickly as possible."

I shifted uncomfortably in my place and wiped my sweaty, nervous hands on my clothes. A filthy taste suddenly forms in my mouth. That familiar taste where it comes to you in a moment where you feel so impossibly uncomfortable but you're too scared to do anything about it.

I tried to swallow down my bitter words, the same way I would force the wine down my throat, but it seemed this bitterness was deep in my soul and that there was no way for them to leave unless I suddenly, spat them out to Kylo Ren, still keeping my gaze on the drunk, messy crowd.

"Well apparently, you have the rest of my life to do that." I raised my eyebrows and scowled.

God's – I pray to them all, that the Princess will be found soon.

Suddenly, Kylo touches my cheek with the side of his leather thumb, his lips forming into pensive grin in my peripherals as he reorients my face so that he holds the gaze I didn't want to give him, stealing the fear and anger from my eyes in a way that only magnifies the spark into something more as I widen them to him.

He licks the corner of his lips, glancing to my own shortly and then returning his brown eyes to mine, "You sound, disappointed with your fate." He drawls slowly and I gulp in his hands, "Angry with your part of liberation to your people and my own."

There is no smile on his lips anymore, only the hot intensity of his gaze that I somehow, know is the start of the inferno to come. My pupils became dilated and there was a tremor in my hands, to which he flickered those browns to.

I'm in a frozen state, that doesn't know how to get myself out of this situation before he or someone else realises that I am not the true Princess, but he only continues as he suddenly, etches his leather hand over to my trembling one in my lap.

He leans in slightly, and I feel his hot breath fan my face as he whispers lowly, "Maybe, you just need my help to prove to you the people's gratitude."

Making its home above my own, his leather fingers graze the back of my hand but because his grip is so large, they overlap and grip onto my thigh above the material of my dress. Even before his palm had met my skin that laid beneath cloth, his gloved fingertips were enough to make my lungs expand with briny air. His browns electrified somehow in the candlelight, lightening with the desire to play, whilst inside my own was a flashing beacon that shows I am afraid but all I do is sit completely petrified under his grip with my lips quivering whilst his hand gropes my thigh.

As my breathing hastens, the intense rhythm of my heartbeat undergoes an irregular count, hammering quicker than a lightning bolt as his hand slithers higher and higher slowly. Nausea began to claw at my throat. It took everything in me to force down the bile as I suddenly, shot out of my chair and glanced at my surroundings in a petrified, anxiety attack that was forming within me.

Ruby glances over and raises one, soft eyebrow, I speak before she can, my voice trembling as I forced an uncomfortable smile, which tugged somewhat, downwards as I noticed the evil smirk still upon Kylo Ren's features.

"I need to use the restroom." I lie, and she knows I am with a roll of her eyes as I continue, "Where is it?"

"Back corner of the hall." Ruby mutters, then pointing a finger into my face with stern eyes, "Be back before the King does his speech and toast for your union."

I don't give Kylo a second glance before I wisp away with shaking knees and nervous footing. Practically, clawing my way through the exceptionally drunk crowd, my stomach kept on contracting violently as my whole body was flooding with an overwhelming sense of disgust and abuse by only the touch of his large hand.

The crowd is a river of people, but not a shallow nor a calm body of water, for it resembled a rip current where everyone is moving in different directions, jumping, clinking their jugs and dancing, all while threatening to trample me if I lose my footing.

I can feel the sweat drench my skin, the throbbing of my own eyes and the thumping of my heart against my chest. My fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm and I begin to feel blood trap beneath them. I can't hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs heavily and hot, as if the air was also as disgusted as I was.

I can see the bathroom doors to the side, but I don't make my way over, instead, I push my way through the golden doors, uncaring of the minimal eyes who watch me do so with this heavy crown of responsibility upon my head.

When I finally push through the doors, I gasp loudly when I tumble my way out and heave in heavy breaths as if I was drowning. My skin suddenly feels cold as if the air is now cooling my overstressed flesh with the openness of the stone courtyards. I don't know where I am going, when I begin to run down the halls, I just know I need to get as far away from the blaring music and cheers as I possibly can.

Lifting my dress from the stone floors and from underneath my feet as they begin to run. I wheeze as my burning lungs gasp for air. My heels are tight around my feet and almost cause me to topple a few times as I sprint down the open archways that expose the moons above. My legs feel numb and unsteady, painfully sore in their pounding noise that resonated off the walls of the Kingdom with a clanging echo that matched my heart throbbing inside my chest with the thick violation and fear that I felt as I ran.

Tears blind me and I turn, running as quickly as my legs can carry me as I begin bolting down a courtyard when I see a long stretch of grass behind it. Quickening my pace to an all out sprint, I only kick off my heels when I meet the green land.

Bare feet kissing the land. Perhaps, a little while ago I would have balked at idea of running so far and fast, now I relish the prospect of freedom which I will never be able to fully grasp in this Kingdom.

The grass on my soles is soft and slightly glazed with a nights mist. It's a gentle tickle as each giving wand forms a cushion of green to my feet, whilst, each strand moves in the breeze as easily as my hair did.

When I see the stables, tucked away by the edge of the palace, I don't hesitate to gravitate to something familiar. My footing slows and so does my heartbeat. It's painful to my soul, when a tiny bit of hope flickers ignorantly inside, hoping that somehow, Anwar would be in there, to hoick me onto the back of a horse and take me home – But that is just my silly, fabricated scenarios playing in my head once again. That is something that will never happen, and it didn't happen when I reached the stables and paddock.

My hands cling onto the wooden fence around the paddock and I bite my bottom lip in thought, wondering if it is a good idea to kick my legs over the fence and see the horses, but by some twisted fate, one of the horses stride over to me as if they were one from the orchards.

The horse came over slowly, whilst a penetrating coolness trickled over the now bleak landscape that reflected in its deep eyes. I hush at the animal with my tear-stained cheeks and stare gravely towards the advancing mare, its black coat matching the thick horizon.

Its ears pricked slightly as it moved swiftly with powerful limbs tearing into the pasture soil. Knuckles white, as I clench them against the fence, I then, relax my hands only to place them softly on the snout of the horse, rubbing gentle circles and hushing silent words to the trusting mare.

Stranded tears cleansed my cheeks, not caring for the voice inside my mind that screamed for them to stop. Few droplets remained, forgetting their way as the path was swept from beneath them, consequently blurring my vision with waves of sadness.

I am still unbelievably provoked by the disgust and parade around what should be, the Princess' giving away party, but it is now mine – And, in addition to the constant anxiety that swayed inside my guts at the thought of my betrothed, it seemed nobody would care for they are selfish in their advancement of the union between the rich planet of Jorkhan and The First Order.

It's remarkable that even one of the most powerful people in this world, is so imprisoned and I suddenly, understand just why the Princess had run away upon hearing the arrangement – But I do not sympathise with her more than myself as I hope she is found and takes this responsibility off of me once more.

"You left so soon."

The voice ripples me out of my own mind of split serenity and all of my fears come crashing harshly back down upon me and my brittle heart. The silence is heavy enough to make me even forget about the ring of gold that rests above my hair, but I do not interrupt it like he does so easily.

"Are you ignoring me?" He mutters, swaying his cloak to the side and swashing his boots through the wet grass to stand beside me as he leans his elbows on the fence and watches the mare and I.

"Is that horse yours?" He asks.

"No."

Kylo Ren chuckles, and it vibrates in my own chest. "Well, she seems to like you." He says, whilst noticing the way the horse and I, both slightly flinch when he reaches for it, only patting the snout once before returning his gloved hand back to the wooden fence, "You must be good company to her."

I roll my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek hard as I grit out my first sentence beneath the bright moons above.

"I prefer the horse's company compared to the ones of others." I point out blankly, hoping he gets the harsh message, but all of a sudden, his hand moves to the crook of my elbow quickly and removes my grip from the horse, whilst simultaneously, thrashing me around to face me as he pins me to the fence. The horse gallops away and I now wish that I was him instead.

"You know, the King never told me that you were an ignorant brat upon discussion." Kylo grits into my face, now twining the flesh of my wrists in his leather hands and my heart burns as much as my wrist do in this state of fear, "I am only trying to make this better for you." He seethes.

I scoff, no matter how fearful I truely am.

"Better?!" I spit, "How could _you_ possibly make anything better for me?"

"Princess!" I hear distantly, but beneath those angry eyes, I am pinpointed into the burning rage that brews in the coated brown.

Kylo tilts his head and his teeth snarl, "I have tried to act civil with you, but you are only making this worse for yourself!" He grits and I silently gasp in his words, "I have refrained from my usual traits, but it seems like you only wish to see that side of me instead –" Kylo twists the flesh of my wrists painfully before continuing, to prove a point with his strength, "Now, I'm done playing nice."

_"Princess!"_

I grimace away from him, furrowing my brows and shaking my head, "Nice? Groping my thigh, wasn't nice."

Kylo growls like a rabid animal, and in his fury, I can see the monster within. The monster who has demolished planets, killed humanities and ravaged wars with his bare hands.

When Kylo narrows his eyes into mine once more, it's as if space became the finest point imaginable, whilst time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed. My heart is beating erratically in my chest and I am awaiting for him to snap my neck or dig the silver lightsaber at his belt, into my chest.

But he never does either of those violent things and I hardly had a moment to react before he pressed his lips to the seam of my own forcefully. My eyes widen and I am in a frozen state as I feel his tongue pry into my dry mouth.

He finally lets go of my wrists and I begin to push at his chest which resembles a brick wall beneath all of the black of his uniform.

_"Princess!"_

Then unexpectedly, a large hand drifted to my hip, causing a frightened gasp to leave my lips that I tried to pry away but he only pushed the back of my head to bring them closer. Delving inside my mouth, it was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of need in his billowing moans as I made noises of disapproval into his mouth. My arms reached up and tangled around his thick, strong neck, fingers pulling at the hair lightly to earn a deep groan, only to then grip it harshly away, pulling his lips from my own in the rough tug.

I inhaled sharply, my eyebrows furrowing as my chin quivered, whilst the tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes. I am angry, no – Furious. Blood boils in my system as hot as his lips were when they were pressed to mine and I am suddenly seeing red.

"You are a vile man!"

Gritting my teeth together as I watch him breathe as if he had just run a marathon, I twitch my nose upwards and scowl at the man as I push him by the chest, roughly away. Kylo stumbles back a few paces and his face, for a second, turns to one in shock as he registers what I had just done.

When his eyes narrow, I know the worst is to come.

Pacing quickly back over, I flinch slightly as I watch him raise his gloved hand into the air.

His hand cracks across my face, snapping it back with the force of his blow and causing my head to reel sickeningly as it snaps to the side and the rest of me falls with it.

The slap was as loud as a clap of thunder and it stung my face to the point where I thought no skin was left above my cheekbone. Clutching onto my face with watering eyes, my knees dug into the dirt and grass stained the bottoms of my dress that I fell onto. When black dots quit covering my vision, I am left with a hazy gaze of Kylo Ren storming away with an enraged and contorted expression as he side-swipes by Ruby.

By her side, stood General Hux, who only smirks at my expense as I lay limply in the paddock beneath the moonlight.

It seemed the Princess was the smartest person in all of Jorkhan, when she fled from Kylo Ren's cruel and abusive demeanour before he even had the chance to lay a finger on her.

But upon her absence, here I kneel, in the grass of the Kingdom, wearing her crown above my head and her Fiancé's finger welts upon my cheek.


	7. New Quarters

Footsteps pattering above the hardwood floors and the rustling of fabrics and cardboard, awaken me from my foggy slumber. I had cried beneath the sheets all night long, until I drew on a migraine and became dehydrated, eventually falling limply asleep shortly after. The sheets were still sprawled above my head and the opened curtains and balcony, bring in the light from a new day which sinks through the thick duvet that blocks me from the four servants.

Sighing and shedding the sleep from my brain, all I can dwell upon is how rough my life had become even though I know sleep upon soft, silk sheets with feathered pillows.

When the harsh gaze of brown eyes, burn into my opened vision, I shake the memory of Kylo Ren from my mind, or else I will weaken beneath these heavy fabrics and never truely tear them away.

Slowly and reluctantly, I uncover my face. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the bedroom and blind me for a split second until a young servant walks in front of the sun's rays and blocks it as she carries over some of my undergarments and places them in a small box. I sit up, drag my feet off the bed, and rub my knuckles onto my eyes. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.

My legs dangle above the crimson, polyester carpet that lays around my bed, as I furrow my brows to the servant, speaking with a groggy voice that rasped its way through my throat, "What are you doing?"

The servant girl looks up to me, almost perplexed that I had spoken to her. She's unfamiliar, with her blonde hair that is bunched up messily behind her headscarf and her uniform is slightly grimy with dust and brushes along the thighs of the fabric, as if she had a habit of wiping her dirty hands on her clothes. Maybe, the servants of the Kingdom had a hierarchy? Maybe, she was new and they made her do all of the dirty jobs that the older workers didn't wish to... At least, that was the way it was back at the orchard.

She swallows and shakes her head but is unsure with herself as she stops all movements quickly. She's nervous, incredibly. And for a short second, I am wondering why her lips are quivering and why her knuckles are turning white around my clothes; Until I remember that I am supposably, the Princess of Jorkhan.

"Y-Your Highness –" The servant stutters, "It is upon orders that we relocate your belongings to another room."

Flinching my face back and contorting my face, I run a hand through my hair in a habit I always did when I was uncomfortable or uncertain, but my hand only gets stuck an inch above my roots when the knots of sorrowful, tossing a twisting, meet my curled fingers.

I glance around the Princess' bedroom, noticing the bare space of where the paintings once hung and my now empty closet. None of the belongings that were being packed away, were ever and will never be mine and neither will this bedroom – But that didn't stop the rise of unease that burned like a heartache in my chest at the thought of relocating rooms, when already this whole Kingdom is so unfamiliar.

"Another room?" I croak, glancing back to the servant girl, "Where?"

The girl bites her bottom lip and tears a nervous mark in the chapped flesh and when she flinches at the taste of blood, she bows her head to the floor in hopes that I do not notice. "Kylo Ren's quarters, Princess."

Her words fall and echo upon the hardwood floors like a penny falling in slow motion to the ground, only I am not jolting to pick up the piece of silver before someone else does, instead, I let the words tap and swirl among the ground, loudly and bringing a ring to my ear with the anxiety that sings in their tone.

_Kylo Ren's quarters._

I am being relocated to Kylo Ren's quarters.

The dread creeps over me like an icy chill, numbing my brain, flooding and then freezing over my system. My heat begins to pump and beat like it's trying to escape my chest and my eyes widen with as much fear as the servant below me.

My chest is hollow, and then all at once it's filled with this buzzing. Buzzing. Buzzing. Like a swarm of fruit flies, the same type that would rot the plums back at the orchard, only these ones are bigger, louder and their wings flap at my guts, bringing on an uneasy sensation. My face is numb and I'm crying, but I didn't notice until a few drops seeped into my parted lips.

It's the same reasoning to why I am crying this very second and why I cried all night long: I do not want anything to do with the evil, Kylo Ren. He is repulsive, sly and a snake in his attributes and gestures. The way his hand had groped my thigh last night was bad enough, but when he forcefully stole a kiss and shoved his tongue into my mouth, I knew that he would truely become the death of me.

I cannot marry him. I cannot move into his quarters. I am on a double sided tightrope which I currently balance upon on my walk to freedom, but on both sides are consequences that I shall meet upon my choices.

If I walk backwards and cower away from Kylo Ren, the King will kill me – But if I complete the King's wishes, and tip-toe towards Kylo, the Apprentice, who has shown that he isn't shy to prove his brute and abusive nature, will leave me bruised in this deceiving lie that I must play with him. I almost wish that I could forget about this golden tightrope, for it is smothering me as if it was tied around my neck instead – I wish I could take the fall from it and return to the ground below, where all the people walk beneath the gold, leaving their faces shadowed in their disadvantage.

When I speak once more, no longer is my voice only groggy from sleep, but from the tears that stream pointlessly down my face as I ask, "Who ordered you to pack my things?"

I can see her eyes glazing over, she doesn't know what to do. I can almost hear her thoughts, wondering why the hell, the Princess was crying when she was the one covered in dirt. Flickering her eyes to the side and then back to me, she answers with a soft and timid tone.

"Ruby Mayse, Your Highness."

_Ruby._

Her name stung my heart and fuelled the fire that was slowly dying inside of me, causing it to burst into long trickles of flames. My fists began to clench into the sheets around me and my jaw rooted. It only took a couple of seconds before I stormed up from the bed and tore a dress out of another servant's hands, slamming the bathroom doors behind me as I went to get changed.

My face was burning and my lip was tightly squashed beneath my teeth as I again, slammed the doors of the bathroom open and demanded the location of Ruby from another, poor servant girl. She looked terrified, with eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at me who towers above her, but suddenly, all of my empathy and sympathy has left my system as it was replaced with the growing tide of rage that met with the storm above that was brewed by fear.

"She should be around the west halls!"

That was all I needed before I stormed out of the foyer doors. Paths twisted and turned out of sight and so dense was my boots that thrashed against the hardwood floors of the higher up levels. I watch the paintings along the walls flicker by my peripherals in my quick pace and exceptionally ignore the eyes of the painted Princess. Rich carpets then muffling the heels of my boots, I soon have to lift my dress from underneath my feet when I see a staircase to the ground floors where carpet and hardwood, both meet the stone of the courtyards.

The stone staircase wound up in a tight spiral, so that the inner part of each step was so narrow and pointed that it was impossible for more than one person to use at a time. It curled around to the left with no hand rail and only the narrowest of windows to provide light but even then, the window glass was blinded by a kaleidoscopic arrangement of colours which was a mosaic to the royal emblem.

The stones were hot and even through the rich leather that bound my feet, I could feel the sunshine making the stairs their resting place as it opened up widely to the courtyard.

I expected to be only met with the gentle summer's breeze and maybe the soft pattering of passerby's footsteps, and I was when I leaped off the last step, met with all of those things, and introduced to the chortled huffs and breaths of a duel happening in the patch of grass that meets the conjunction of the courtyard.

At first, when I turn the corner, I presume there to a be a genuine fight that is battled between the mess of cloaks and clattering staffs, but upon further inspection with curious eyes as I cradle around a stone pillar, I realise it is two men, who move so fast in their blows that they are almost undetectable; Training in the courtyard, for the mediocre weapon that they fight over, never fully collides harshly with the other's flesh.

The men are both strongly built, this I can tell in the midst of the chaos and burning sweat, but the tallest of the two was quick to pry the edged staff from his opponent and knock the end of it into his chest.

The opponent whipped around to grab back onto the staff and with armoured fingers, clashed the steel back onto the first man.

It reminded me of the fake fights between Anwar and I, when we were little. We used sticks and he always gave me the bigger, pointier one with the most barbed roots on the sides as an advantage, but I didn't need it because I would kick him in the shin and he would have toppled down into the dirt and pleaded mercy, _every-time._

But this fight was clearly more involved with strength and endurance. Their paces were quick. Their blows were hard. And if one of them dropped to the ground, they only shot back up immediately after.

I watch as the shorter man grabs fully onto the staff and aims it towards the other man. My heart dropped and my stomach lurched when the taller man pulled out the silver weapon from his holster and ignited it. A lightsaber. A burning red, lightsaber. Kylo Ren.

I freeze in my spot, hoping the single pillar is enough to camouflage my trembling frame. Kylo held the blade at an even, and a perfect, undaunted horizon, upwards and levelled with his prominent nose. Holding it as it hummed loudly in the air, he had stalled the man's next strike as he leans beneath the blow that whistles in the empty collision of a hot breeze.

I watched a wretched, stained grin split at his soft features as his lightsaber shivered under the brutality of his compelling strength and the blade flashed as he brought it over his head and hummed a low, swift tune when he brought it down towards his opponent.

I can feel the sweat drench my skin, the throbbing of my own eyes and the thumping of my heart against my chest. My fingers are curled around the pillar as I watched how physically advantaged and strong he was as he seethed in this fake fight. I can't hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs heavily.

Only now my brain is as a flat battery, the exertions of last night draining me and my once rage, leaving me lonesome with only the storm of fears. As Kylo then spun around and dodged another strike, I let out a small gasp at the evil glimmer in his brown eyes, as it reminds me of the look he shunned upon me beneath the moonlight – And much to my horror and dismay, suddenly they are upon me in one quick motion again.

The brown lays upon me and suddenly beneath the heavy stare, time pauses and only here, us two stand in the slowed movement. I feel as if I am scorching into ashes beneath his eyes, as if they are in fact, the two suns in the sky – Then all at once, the staff in the other mans hand, locks target with Kylo's jaw, but before it could even connect with the bone, Kylo sends out a long arm and outstretched hand, sending the opponent flying in the air and crashing against another pillar at the back.

The power also has the ability to send my eyes flying wide and me stumbling away from the pillar as he keeps his stare still upon me.

The ability of the force wasn't so much a myth in my suburbs, but nobody I knew had ever seen such power possessed within an individual that we believed it to be a trait that was just a fantasy to our Planet – But here, Kylo Ren stood in the heart of Jorkhan, with all of that force energy racing in his veins, a privilege given with more sovereignty than any royal could ever possess.

Just as I spun on my heal to swiftly walk away, Kylo Ren walks up the three steps and onto the archway halls that I walked, grabbing gently onto the flesh of my wrist and spinning me around as I let out a yelp.

"Enjoying the show?" He played briskly, but there was no smirk nor smile upon his features as I took in his face.

My eyes narrowed as the man continued taunting me the same way he did last night. He was tall and handsome, but a pretty face wasn't enough to swoon me over the fact that he was a monster deep within.

"Get off me!" I grit between my teeth, thrashing my wrist in his pensive grip. Only now, did I realise that he wasn't wearing his leather gloves. Long fingers, wide palms with blue corded with veins pulsating above and through the pale flesh, perpetual shaking and short fingernails, they were rougher than any man's in the slums, and yet they were more inviting. I bit that thought away at the side of my cheek.

Kylo looked unimpressed, but there was a smirk brewing at his bottom, rosy lip that he swiped his tongue across, glistening it with saliva, "Still playing hard to get, huh?"

He throws my wrist finally away and I roll with its harsh throw, then cradling it to my chest with my other hand as I brush away the feeling of his fingertips digging against the bone. I give him a disgusted look, "There's no playing." I scoff, "Marriage or not, nothing can make me give myself to you willingly."

A cruel sneer formed on his smooth face and he leaned forward, eyes bearing straight into mine as the consolations of freckles upon his cheeks burned into my mind subconsciously, "I don't need you to give yourself away, I already own you."

Fires of fury and hatred were smouldering in my narrowed eyes as I weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to me for exacting revenge – I want to slap him, punch him, kick him in the shin harder than I have ever kicked Anwar, but when I glance to the indent in the pillar from when he had force thrown the man into it, I know violence could never work against this brute of a man. My hands twitched and I could feel a vein pulsing in my forehead.

"Not until the wedding, you don't." I spit, "So, keep your distance from me until then."

Kylo's brown eyes widened for a second before narrowing in anger once more and this time, he let the smirk fully rise, "That might be a bit difficult, when we now share the same quarters."

A breath hitches in the middle of my throat. I forgot about the fact that all of _my belongings,_ were being moved into his new quarters, this very second. He has shocked me, and he knows his words have hit its mark upon me as he raises a thick eyebrow.

My hatred grew from nowhere and then into a tornado. In my rage I was blind to my fabrication and forgot about the supposed, delicate petals of my heart and soul, which were truely dust and a need for survival. The words I spoke were in such a well intentioned harshness, which triggered something in me that originated from fear.

I shake my head and my hair sways over my shoulder, "Fuck you."

I turn back around and I hope my hair slaps him on its brush over, but he only grabs onto my hand and turns me back around as easily as he had done so before as he chuckles lowly.

"I didn't know Princess' spoke that way." He chimed, not letting go of my rigid hand.

It was as if my brain was suffering a massive short circuit and was struggling to compute as all the summer air sucks right into my soul upon his words and waves of heat coursed through my blood, whilst a cold sweat glistened at the back of my neck.

In the midst of shock and wild panic, I stuttered incoherent words but the silence lays on my skin like cement seeping into my bones. _He knows. He knows. He knows._

"Then, again –" He cocks his head to the side and his raven hair shines softly beneath the sun as he brushes his thumb above the back of my hand, "You aren't wearing your crown."

Furrowing my brows, I slipped my hand out of his own before my palms became sweaty.

"What?" I whisper, timidly; A major difference to my tone from only seconds before.

Kylo Ren chuckles. Low and deep, like the rest of his voice was. He closes the distance between us and I only stumble back against the pillar as our chests nearly touch. My lips part and my heart is beating so erratically against my ribs that I'm certain he can see the rise and fall as easily as I can feel it.

He lifts his big hand to the side of my face and I await the violation of his lips once again as I clench my eyes tightly close. But his silky lips never meet my own, instead his fingers only curl a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

I open one eye before the other, noticing the way his gaze flickered from my ear, to my lips and then to the top of my head.

He shrugs and takes a step back. Only then, do I let out a shaky breath which I didn't know that I was holding captive.

"You're not wearing your crown today." He says nonchalantly.

Swallowing softly, I shake my head slightly and raise a hand to the top of my head, as if I didn't believe him, but when I only meet the parting of my hair, I drop my hand to my side once more and stutter, "O-Oh, well... I guess I forgot."

_Stupid. How could I forget?!_

Kylo Ren huffs a small, briny laugh and as a servant walks by, I realise she would have no idea that two seconds ago, we were practically screaming at one another.

He sighs and kicks his foot out, as if he is ready to leave, "I like it forgotten then," He says curtly, "You look much more free... Spirited, almost."

I'm taken aback, my face surely proves so.

Was he trying to say that I looked good? Nicer than I do when I wear a golden crown that weighs as much as its worth, above my head?

_Well, you should see me with my uniform on and my berry stained fingers, then._ I want to add, but I never could.

"Really?" I breath, but my eyes shift back to annoyed slants, "Then, I'll be sure to wear it even to bed now."

Those golden browns roll into white, "You're so ignorant."

I nod, "You've told me before."

I am staring into Kylo's eyes with a defiant look. My heart is hammering but I keep my eyes casual with no hint of hesitation. When he doesn't protest, I huff and roll my own eyes, and this time, when I turn around to walk away, he doesn't stop me – But he does call out a final sentence with his rough, deep voice.

_"See you tonight."_

As hard as it was to try and not hold my breath, I knew deep down that I had to hold a reason to. Along with pretending to be a Princess, the threat of my life if I don't by the King, an arranged marriage to the cruel, Kylo Ren and the fact that I was now lingering in his quarters; It was safe to say that I felt as if my life was drowning and slowly diminishing as even all this expensive gold, is weighing me down like an anchor.

Swallowing hard, I clutched furiously at my chest, hoping that by a scratch or simple graze along my collar bone, my heart would stop racing, and my body just might entirely shut down, finally causing me clarity as I let out all of this throbbing pressure when my heart falls to the polished floor.

The colourful, but somehow still dull, painting from the Princess' foyer, where only she is painted vividly among a background of emerald green, teased me with her unmoving eyes, and almost snickered at my loss with her slight smile.

_Just wait until you're the one replacing me!_ I glare into her eyes, which were only a mirror to my own.

It's late and though I do not want him to ever enter through those hardwood doors, every hour that passes only brings on more apprehension and anxiety into my core. I harshly rubbed at my eyes with my palms, yawning but making sure not to rub off the drawn on birthmark above my cheek bone.

The crown is heavy upon my head and my neck is straining from holding up its weight all this time, and just as I am about to take it off and place it on the desk in his lounge area, I am happy that I am abruptly stopped by the opening of the main doors, for Kylo Ren finally walks inside.

He takes three steps in before his eyes finally fall upon me, who stands before the new painting which had been hung above the fireplace of his quarters only today. He stops his footing a couple of paces away from me and his eyes flicker to where I stare, almost conceitedly.

It is so calm and quiet in this unfamiliar space for the two of us, but he doesn't care one bit as he cocks his head to the side as he takes in the artwork as if it had a hidden meaning.

It is in his stillness that scares me. Perhaps, it is the moonlight that billows through the opened archway that meets the balcony, making his skin so pale, or the wind that blows his hair softly around his features, I'm not sure what it truely was in this moment that made me uneasy, for his hands weren't clenched by their sides but were once again, wrapped in leather and his cloak was still thickly draped across his broad shoulders.

Through my peripheral's, I watch as he doesn't even blink but just keeps his eyes upon the Princess as if she whispers secrets to him through the brushstrokes.

He breaks the high silence with his low voice, "You look different to how you do in all of the paintings in the palace."

My heart was as cold as the bare air that blew in after his sentence finished. It causes an ache within, tugging on my heartstrings like the music of a great orchestra. My mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process anything other than he must truely know by now, but he somehow doesn't.

I walk over to one of the couches in the room and lounge upon it as if these are my quarters and not his, "I'm not the best at keeping still." I murmur, the lies seeping off my tongue as light as ever, compared to that heavy metaphorical rope around my neck.

I flick my hands above my head, resting my elbow on the arm of the couch and playing with a jewel that was embedded into the gold of the crown. I kick my feet onto the table before the couch, my lounging clothes making it easier for me to do so.

I try not to smirk at the little voice in the back of my head, _'I told him I would even sleep in this crown.'_

Kylo plays with the buttons of his drapes, pulling them undone and throwing them onto the table before me, the fabric, somewhat falling onto my feet and I kick them away with a huff.

He stands tall in the room and I chew the inside of my cheek as he just watches me as intently as he did with the portrait. It's infuriating and I fold my arms around my chest as I raise my eyebrows and scoff, "Can you go into the bedroom or something?" I bark, "It's late and I want to go to sleep."

He furrowed his brows and shrugged, "Go for it then."

I roll my eyes, "I would but I can't sleep with you just staring at me like this."

As he stands tall in the dim light of the lounge, the moonlight shines through the balcony and shines him with a half of its light and the other half, a casted shadow, but I can still see the way his eyes lock into mine.

Something flashed beneath the surface of his hardened expression and I hurried to investigate the sudden shift but it was too late, the emotion disappeared before I could identify it. He squints his eyes, "You're sleeping out here?" He asks, then turning to the fireplace.

Casting long shadows over the rug, the flames in the fireplace, curl and sway as the sounds of crackles fill the tension as the flames burn the dry wood. By the couch, I can feel the gentle warmth of the flames, my features too, illuminated by the flickering light, and though the air isn't smokey, I can smell the pine as it burns, just a faint fragrance to reassure my senses as it reminds me of the edge of the woods by the orchards.

I sucked in a sharp breath and patted the cushion of the couch comfortingly as I sighed, "Yes, there's only one bedroom."

Kylo kneels and begins to dim the warm fire that burns in the fireplace. I furrow my brows as he speaks, "Nonsense, you will sleep in the bedroom." He deadpans, "In the bed."

"Then, will you sleep out here?" I question, but part of me already knows the answer.

He turns around and I gulp at his features, his words are dull in my ears but I watch him mouth them anyway, "No."

I stand from the couch abruptly.

"I am not sharing the bed with you!" I screeched, throwing my arms in the air and then slapping them by my sides. He doesn't even flinch. I roll my eyes and storm into the bedroom, throwing the duvet out of its folded sides and flattening the pillow. Kylo only follows and leans against the archway.

I crane my face to him and scoff at his sly smirk, "Get out! You're sleeping on the couch, then."

He shakes his head, "I'm sleeping in the bed too."

I know I'm testing his patience with my outbursts and tantrums, but I have every right to.

"I would rather sleep in a puddle than share a mattress with someone like you." I spit.

Kylo only shakes his head and enters the room, opening a drawer and plucking off his leather gloves, to which he throws them into. "And who is someone like me?" He asks me, as if I am a child he is simply entertaining. My blood boils.

"A vile human being!" The cruel words leave my lips as if they had sat in my head for too long, and they had. "A murderer. A plague to the Galaxy!"

All at once, I saw the way his eyes darkened, the same way they did last night and his neck began to turn red as did the faint flickers of anger in the brown. He growls and like he had done with the man he duelled, he held out his hand quickly, and suddenly, I am pulled over with a rough tug of the force. My toes that slipped in their socks, barley grazed the floor as they swung pathetically to be grounded.

My crown fell to the floor.

His face draws close to mine with a scowl, "Know your place!" He screams into my face and I gasp as I feel fingertips tighten around my neck, but his hands stay clenched by his sides, "You may be the Princess, but I am the future ruler of this Planet! You will do all that I say and all that I command of you – I own you and you are my servant..."

I claw at my neck, but find no hand to draw from strangling me. My heart starts to beat harder and faster, my adrenaline levels rising as tears spilled from my eyes.

"Do you understand?" He seethed into my face and I tried to make a sound but no air could enter nor escape my lungs or throat, "I said –"

Suddenly, the grip around my throat is gone and I am thrown to the ground beneath me. I heave in oxygen as if I had never inhaled before – It shocks my lungs and my heart beat quickens as I lay vulnerable beneath Kylo's feet.

"Do you understand me?"

I am heaving breathes in and no matter how much I pant, there is still not enough air in my lungs to carry the light weight that succumbs my mind. My whole body is limp and the corners of my eyes are darkening whilst the middle is seeing spots.

I cough and splutter over the leather of his boots as I finally find the breath to let out fits of sobs as the tears flood down my cheeks. I farewell my confidence and all the fight within my heart as I let out a broken, "Yes, I understand."

The man continued to do laps around my weak body, intimidating me even more, like a lion would taunt it's prey before slaughtering it. His smirk never faded, only became more prominent as his tongue peeked out for a moment to lick his bottom lip.

Silence fills the tension and causes a ring in my ears as my eyes go wide and my eyebrows cave in. Tears spilled down my cheeks in the tsunami that thrashed with realisation as Kylo chuckles and shakes his head, "Good girl." He praised, "Now, get into the bed."

I sprawl up onto my feet and I'm trembling as I pull the sheets further and then hide beneath them like I did this morning, my eyes only peeking partially above the fabric as through the fog of my tears, I watch him prepare for bed.

I'm still heaving breaths inwards as forcefully as I can and my soft sobs come out uncontrollably. My body felt as if poison was coursing though it instead of blood. I then had to bite my lip to keep from crying out as I watched him casually get changed, with his back facing me. I clenched my eyes tightly closed.

A little voice in the back of my head found me. It spoke to me in its cackling voice, screaming at my stupidity and cursing at me for getting us into this mess.

When I opened my eyes once more, Kylo was already staring back at me with hungry eyes, eyes of a passionless executioner. I hated him.

No matter the pain he had brought upon my words, I still spoke the truth. As he made his way over to the other-side of the bed, I dipped inwards with his weight but tried to claw my way back onto my side as I chanted the words with an acid tone in my head.

_A vile human being. A plague to the Galaxy._

Aside from the beat of my heart, no muscle would move. That pounding inside only beat a rhythm to the words in my own mind. I could hear him breathing deeply behind me as he sunk his head into the soft pillow, as I gripped onto my own with white knuckles. The white pillowcase, turning damp with my tears.

_A vile human being. A plague to the Galaxy._

Suddenly, his large hand wraps around my waist and his strong forearm rests upon the curve of my trembling frame, pulling me closer into his chest until my prominent spine was plush against it.

I choke on another sob, shutting my eyes once more.

_A vile human being. A plague to the Galaxy._

I sucked in a sharp breath as his shirtless torso brought warmth to me. Even in this position I could feel just how tense and toned it was. I don't dare to move as the bile rises in my throat, burning and feeling as thick as the ache in my heart did, for the fear has replaced my fight tactics for a traumatised sense of fragility, that must remain potent in my scared complicity.

_A vile human being. A plague to the Galaxy._

I was suddenly only the vessel of the person I once was, and throughout the night as Kylo Ren keeps forcing me closer, I glare at the crown that sits lonesome on the floor.

I once feared the King more than anyone, for he had threatened to end my life if I do not pretend to be someone I am not, but even when I pretend to be her, I am only left with Kylo Ren who has now broken me into a shattered Princess that will do anything he says, to also not die.

When those chants from before are finally gone, I am not pulled into a soft silence, for another sentence starts to flood my mind through the sleepless night, where my tears fill the pillow rather than my dreams.

It hums the sentence softly and with words that speak the truth despite my new life of lies:

_Is the sparing of my life worth the damage?_


	8. Daggers And Breakfast

His horror haunted my night and now, rules my day.

Kylo Ren had never lost his victory. From only a couple of days, I had figured out that the man was painfully mercurial, as he would abuse me with his power and portray his evil nature as something heroic whilst simultaneously playing the victim with no empathy.

Last night, when he had somehow lifted me into the air and force choked me, he had let out a swarm and collection of emotions that ate away at all of my defensive walls which I had carefully built. Instilling fear, obligation and guilt, anything to fog up my mind or cloud my thinking as I once thought of myself as a strong person – Strong enough to carry the weight of all this responsibility and the hassle that the Apprentice provides.

It is in this day, that it becomes dark with my mellow gloom, no matter how scorching the two suns could be. With a golden crown lonesome on the floor and my heart smashed into tiny pieces around it, all courage is now diminished.

Yesterday, when I had first awoken, I would have never imagined the day I would rise without a fire that burned in my soul to get out of here, but now... I only have the energy to keep myself alive in the grey embers surrounding.

They will find the real Princess soon and then, I will be able to go home, away from Kylo Ren's prying hands – This I have to keep telling myself and in the meantime, I will wait and stay in the misery that captures my life and slowly kills the rest of my soul.

I hadn't slept last night and if I caught myself dozing in the intertwined grip of Kylo Ren, I forced my eyes open until they stung, softly crying into my pillow for another round that night.

When I need to be lucid and clear, my brain begs for unconsciousness, for sleep at any price. Kylo's no longer in the quarters, he left the moment the sun took its place in the horizon, but after the hours of darkness and an empty bed, I still don't make an effort to move nor sleep.

I lay on my side, and watch the colour slowly seep back into the walls as the balcony behind lets in the gentle breeze. When the daylight finally shines into the room and the birds fill the air with their own music, I sigh and make an effort to move, but all I manage to do is curl my body closer behind the sheets.

Bile rises in my throat when I can smell his musky scent upon them. The empty space where he laid, remains untouched and I glare at the wrinkles in the bedsheet that his strong frame had caused.

When harsh heels clink through the foyer and then into the room, is when I finally close my eyes, but before the lids of my eyes sting in closure, I catch a glimpse of the orange hair which lightened to a raging red in the sunlight.

"Get up." Ruby hums, tugging on the sheets by my feet and then sighing as she picks up the crown on the floor and places it on Kylo's drawers.

I make a gurgled noise and groan, pretending to be asleep and hoping with crossed fingers that she would just leave me alone. A perfect escape would be to just hide out my days until Kylo comes back, and then most likely hide away in the bathroom or something. Why must I pretend to be the Princess twenty-four-seven?

She huffs a loud breath and slaps her hands by her sides, "I know you're awake." She exclaims and I roll my eyes further into the back of my head. "I saw you see me walk in!"

I mumble beneath the thick sheets, "What do you want now?"

Using my voice for the first time today, my throat is tight and sore and every syllable that rises from my lungs and out into the open, scratches its way through my mouth and neck, feeling like sandpaper to my muscles.

I pulled up the duvet and rolled towards the darker side of the room – From this angle, his scent is overbearing.

This side was away from the summer morning, sun, but still on the wall there were rectangles of light projecting from the gaps between the curtains and balcony.

My eyes finally droop heavily once more.

Ruby takes a seat on the edge of the bed, where I once laid – Though my back was facing her, it was a comfortable gesture in her part. It was as if I was to her, the best-friend who had fled without a warning, the Princess that I am pretending to be.

"It's not what I want," She mutters, "It's the King's order."

I finally flutter my eyes back open, and incomes the drowsiness of the lack of sleep.

Her shadow is casted upon the wall and it is as prominent as the paintings that also line it. Furrowing my brows whilst an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach, I tossed from one side to the other, facing her now and tangling myself in the rich covers.

"Then –" I croak, hesitating my words as I begin to scratch at the mattress in sudden fears, "What does the King want?"

Ruby sat with her back hunched over as she leaned her forearms on her thighs for comfort. Fair skin, pointed features and deep eyes, Ruby didn't look at me as I stared at her, instead she focussed on picking the invisible lint off of her dress. She sways her head, swallowing slowly after and looking back at me.

"He's arranged something."

"He seems to be good at doing that." I rolled my eyes and much to my surprise, she actually laughs.

It was only small and gracious, but never-less the smile upon her face was uncommon and brand new to me.

She shakes her head, her eyes still kind for this short moment. Maybe, she felt guilty after the happenings of the banquet night, when she found me crying on the grass after Kylo had smacked me right in front of her eyes, unbeknownst to her and General Hux's presence. Or maybe, unlike me, she woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.

"Yes, well – The King has arranged a breakfast feast for you and... Kylo Ren." She mumbles the last name, but I heard it all too well. Down goes her smile and away goes her gaze and so does mine. Glaring back onto the portrait of the Princess, I know I have most definitely cried off the fake birthmark beneath my eye, and the fact that I will have to draw it back on just so I can _feast_ with the cruelest people in the Universe, sets my nerves affray.

A feast for breakfast? Disgusting. Diminishing to my people. Surely, the King knows what he is doing to me when he parades all of this food in front of me whilst at the same time, he tries to parade me too.

It's a double edged dagger, I want to eat the food that he gives, but I don't want to give him the satisfaction of indulging in his gruesome and unfair riches, whilst back home, the people I know are slowly starving into a void or coughing up mucus from eating food that is as rotten as their guts are.

I only sigh once, glancing back to Ruby to find her already looking back and I mimic the small, sad smile that plays upon her lips. Suddenly, there is a mutual sympathy that resides in the tension, for I feel for her loss of a friend as she feels for my loss of freedom – But I am certain the old her, the harsh and nonchalant demeanour will return one day.

"Alright." I hum, despite the sickness in my belly that sways harshly like a ship in a brutal storm of anxiety, "I'll get ready."

In the quiet, warm and gentle breeze on a wide, wrapping balcony that is high above the fields that were overlooking the stables, where the horses gallop and munch on the finely chopped grass, my mind supplies demons that are real and fictitious. The King and Kylo are the real monsters in human skin, and the fictitious ones are only the demons I had mustered up in my lonesome worry that awaits the real ones arrival.

The tightness in my gut reminds me of fabricated deadlines both near and distant, demanding that I slice the time between now and the time I return back home, thinner to a proportion that is rotting in the time it takes to find the real Princess.

The table looked like a porcelain plate on three pencil thin stilts. The ends of the stilts curved up and curled like vein tendrils delicately as I bounced a nervous food above it. The top was about as long and as wide as my arm spans and a bit more, as the cutlery glimmers beneath the sun and the empty plates match the rest of the table, where in the middle also sits, a brimmed basket of soft bread-rolls.

The chair I sat in was mahogany with cherubs chiselled into the sides and on the top was a violet cushion which was plush and made of velvet. Three chairs are tucked beneath the table, but I am the only one sitting.

I'd like to temporarily dislocate my spirit from my body, as if I could skip over this breakfast and not have to face either of those men who are late. I want to let my soul go to wherever souls go to be zen, maybe even lay it to rest in a soft slumber as my eyes begin to sting and I am feeling the results of missing sleep.

I'm a fairly brave person, I think, but everyone has a weakness and though I once thought hunger was mine, I truely found my type of torture to my courage to be the King and Kylo Ren. But suddenly, my mind is sent reeling upon all of this chaos in the silence.

Even when I do eventually go home, this won't ever be over.

The cruel King will still rule the planet and even when he finally passes, the crueler, Kylo Ren will crumble this planet into ashes with his abusive power.

I reflect back to Anwar and how he wished so deeply to leave this place forever-more and suddenly, I understand him whole-heartedly.

Hopefully, before I am sent back home, I can smuggle a piece of gold out. Maybe a faucet or even some of the Princess' jewellery? It doesn't matter – I just need enough to buy us a one way ticket out of here and enough to settle us in a new, safer world, where The First Order isn't digging their claws into the democracy or hierarchy.

That is truely the dream, my sleepless mind conjures.

I stare around the bare table and consider nibbling on a roll of bread, but chose not to incase the King came soon and found me demolishing the whole basket like the south-eastern, scum I was.

The plates are pure china and make a nice ding sound when I tap my knife against it. Silver-light waves rippled from tip to wooden handle, I raise a small brow, realising it was both a bread and butterknife – Still, I don't use it to fatten the bread with the tray of margarine; Instead I suddenly, run my fingertip along the ripples and then at the sharp, silver tip, which causes a slight pinch in its point.

If I dug deep enough, I could draw blood – The reminder of the invisible indentations of Kylo's force hand around my neck, are enough for me to slide the knife underneath my sleeve; For safekeeping.

"Ah, there she is!" I suddenly, hear the gravelling voice of the King, charm behind me, raising the hairs on my neck and forming goosebumps along my flesh that basks beneath this morning sun. "She's early!"

I roll my eyes that won't close fully with the threat of drowsy need behind the lids.

When the King curls around the table, he opens his arms for another hug and I swallow roughly before standing from my seat and stiffly, side-hugging the old man, who tightly wraps his arms around my shoulder blades.

The pat on my shoulder that turns into a tight squeeze, is a warning when I pull away.

The King was quite tall and had a slight, extended stomach. His grey hair was neat and styled tight against the nape of his wrinkled neck. He smelt of soap and perfume, something most men I knew had never even let meet their nostrils before, and also unlike them, his skin was barely touched by the sun. Were he any paler, his blue eyes would substitute for ice – So cold, just like his heart.

"My Daughter, we were just talking about you." The King gives me a coy smile, which rises from beneath he neatly trimmed, white beard. He extends a hand to the end of the table, motioning to the other man – Who I had to muster all of my shattered arrangements of courage together, piling it somewhat in the same way it used to look, just to turn and lay my eyes upon him.

Every-time, that I looked at him, it was a shock to my system. For someone so evil, should not look so beautifully perfect in all their scarred flaws. Kylo Ren had the kind of face that stopped all movement around him and even brought the sun ray's attention to his freckled skin, enlightening it to a soft glory, though all that is beyond is a harsh soul.

Of course the blush that accompanied my gaze was a dead give-away to my thoughts, my stomach heaved and my chest began to burn as he only gave me a knowing smirk.

_I hate them both._

I want to drive my dagger that sits beneath my sleeve, right through the pudgy flesh of their necks, but I know I couldn't, for I would be dead before my butterknife even makes contact.

But, that doesn't stop the idea of – _Who would I aim for first?_ – From circling my mind.

"O-Oh, Really?" I glance away from Kylo, curling my right hand to my wrist, to stop the knife from falling out of my sleeve. "G-Good things, I hope?"

The King takes his seat and slightly etches his empty plate closer to his chest, the servant that waits far behind, gets the hint as she skips away.

"Always, my dear." He croaks, clearing his throat before continuing, "I was just telling Kylo a little about what to expect on the wedding day."

Kylo and I take our seats in unison, but when I realise our timed movements, I make certain to adjust the crown upon my head, just to break it as I glare at the bread in the middle of the table.

_Time to act and save my life._

"Yeah, what about it?" I question, but clench my eyes tightly closed in annoyance at my own tone. My wording was un-proper for a Princess, and as I opened my eyes once more in that split second, I hoped that Kylo nor the King noticed my slum slang.

I watch the way the King's eyes slant slightly; A shiver runs up my spine.

"The King was going through the themes and traditions of your people," Kylo suddenly speaks smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through my chest and bones as I gulp at him when he flexes his strong and broad shoulders.

He continues, "– And how it should play out with The First Order and the elite of your royal family."

His brown eyes only meet mine for a short second, and then flicker away just as fast. His lack of eye contact should have concerned me, for with his power, there is no reason to advert his gaze, until I realise it is the King who truely holds his attention.

_Remember,_ I snap at myself _– He supposably owns me. I am his servant._

I fight the urge to roll my eyes once more.

The King finally speaks, after he clears his throat once more, "Yes!" He nods, "– Touching upon how traditional Jorkhan truly is in its wonderful glory! The people of this world will be keen to catch a glimpse of your union! They will trample the fields and line the streets with such gracious intentions!"

My lungs caved in as if the man had dropped a boulder onto my chest. My eyesight struggled to cope with the daylight and I fumbled with my own hands, trying to not clench them into the cuts already caused by my fingernails. With my brain still struggling to recover from the previous night's abuse, I began to see red with his words.

"Gracious?" I drawl slowly.

_How dare he!_

People are dying among this soil that The First Order ravages with their weapons and thievery. Nobody is going to benefit from this marriage, other than him and the Order.

Rage builds like deep water currents.

The King only watches me with those narrowed eyes, threatening me with pale blues.

"Yes, dear." He nods, his voice bare and dead, "The people have been in awe of you since the moment you were born. They are excited to see you to be wedded – And are entirely humbled with the binding that benefits everyone."

I bite on my tongue hard, but it isn't enough for the silver among it to diminish.

"Everyone?" I contest, raising my brows in fake questioning, but the King knows truly in my eyes, it is annoyance and satire, swirling in the colour.

The King and I stare in the midst of a heavy and secret tension, where the air is so brittle it could snap, and if it doesn't, I might.

My chest is still heavy but now a burning sensation rises with rage.

I nearly give into the urge to throw my silver butterknife into the tugged lip that he gives to me.

"Yes." The King tuts and cocks his head to the side, giving me a very fake, grin, but I notice the sharp canines he proves in the smile with threat, "Everyone in Jorkhan."

_Everyone in Jorkhan?!_ I nearly laugh in his face.

I think back to the people back home who are starving to death slowly. Picking out berries from rich orchards and only getting a dime. The riots in the streets at the sight of First Order vehicles.

It's the same reason I don't want to be here, that will become those people's reasoning to revolt. Living in a Planet of chaos. We were the ones who slept in a scattered pile of concrete held together by fractured planks of wood and thin mattresses, whilst others slept in palaces or homes of brick and gold.

Trying to survive in a Planet that wants the disadvantaged dead, is not a community that will be 'humbled with gratitude,' it is a slum that will catch fire.

War does not determine who is right, only who is left... And when The First Order fully take over this planet, my people and I, will be the first to die.

I chuckle lowly, then pitching up my voice in a fake questioning tone as I flutter my eyelashes. Kylo only sits with no real idea to the poison beneath our words.

"What about the people of the south-east?" I now, smirk, "I know it's awfully far for them to come and surround the Kingdom, but I hope they too, _are gracious."_

Servants start to patter around the table with large trays and as they fill the heavy silence. The King and I only stare to each-other, glaring daggers that are as sharp as the knife underneath my sleeve.

So dull in their slices, that it causes more pain to our flesh.

He clears his throat once more and sighs as a plate is placed above the one in front of him.

"As do I." He ends.

I break the stare, just as my smile drops.

A variety of delicacies, bitter colours and sweet tones of food which I had never had the blessing to taste before, all lined the plates and even more were added. Too much food, that most of it was bound to be wasted.

The servers, all young people dressed in white tunics move wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full.

As Kylo began to move some food onto his plate with his big hands around his knife and fork, and the King begins to feast into his own dish – That was completely different to ours – I don't dare to move again.

It is as if I am scared of food, or the feeling of being full when I watch upon the steam tendrils in the air, but as I notice the saliva in my mouth begin to thicken and my stomach slightly tug, I know it is not the food that I fear, it truely is that satisfaction upon the King's face as I reach for a pastry, first with my bare hands, but then they slightly flinch in realisation as I then pick it up with a small pair of tongs.

The King licked his fleshy lips and twisted his fork into his plate of overflowing seafood, that brought a foul smell to my nose, although it was all crumbed. They were little shrimps, fried to a crisp. He drenched them in a creamy, sweet sauce, which a servant then passes to him.

Then ditching the fork, his wrinkled and pudgy hand clenched the oil, soaked shrimp and stuffed them into his mouth and I grimaced behind my soft pastry as he smacked his lips together and swirled his tongue over his teeth to taste all the remnants of the sauce.

In this position, with the maids all circled around, waiting for his plate to clear as he munched on his dish without gratitude, he made sure I knew truely he owned the kingdom.

He dabbed his cheeks and beard with a delicate napkin before speaking once again, I glance away and glare at my yellow pastry that had a creamy filling.

"Look at all this food. How could we ever eat it all!" He hums, placing his forearms beside his plate and rolling his forefingers with his thumbs. Kylo Ren hums around a mouthful of peas.

His eyes then burn into my soul and I'm thrown back to him strangling me suddenly.

I put my eyes back onto my pastry.

The King begins his tormenting once more, but this time, it truely hurts.

"Oh, I'm sure the pigs will enjoy our left overs!" He laughs, eyes boring into the side of my head as I practically crush the food with my hands, "It will be a treat for their breakfast!"

I bite onto the side of my cheek.

_Don't say anything. Don't say anything. Don't say anything._

"Your Majesty?" Kylo interjected my own thoughts, "You spoke very finely of the royal attendance, who will be coming?"

The low rumble of his voice is comforting but so soul crushing in my world where the sound is the power that makes my heart beat erratically and my limbs to tremble, every-time.

The King makes a delighted sound and leans back in his chair. When a servant comes to take away his half empty plate, he only holds out a hand in front of it, shooing her away with the small gesture.

Suddenly, I feel as if I am no longer included at this breakfast feast, and I don't know if I let out a short breath of relief at that fact because it means I don't have the King's attention or Kylo's gaze upon me.

"Oh! Well, it's all my side of the family, my three brothers –" The King explains and Kylo nods slowly, "– And then just my son, who you already know." The old man tilts his head side to side, leaning in with his hand and picking up a pastry, to which he then peels the thin layer of cheese off and throws it onto his plate.

Kylo also leans in his chair and opens his legs as he does so, resting his big hands upon his thick thighs. The Apprentice was so much taller and broader than the king, but it wasn't his stature that made him more intimidating and made it seem that the Kingdom was more so, his already – It was the small, cocky smirk that played on his lips and the power that ran through his veins.

"Ah, Dayvis?" He drawls.

The King decides he is done with the pastry in his hands, dropping it onto the mess of his plate also as I only just complete my own.

"Yes." He nods, now leaning in. "Do tell me, Kylo – How was he going in his training before you arrived here?"

The Prince? Flashes of his coy smile in the paintings where the Princess leant a soft hand upon his stiff shoulders, makes a home in my memory.

Prince Dayvis was more well known than the Princess, mainly because of the fact that he wasn't as hidden as she was brought up to be and the fact that he was supposably, a total brat.

I remember five years ago, when Anwar and I had walked all the way to my favourite confectionary shop with what little money we had, that I stepped on a dirty and wet, newspaper that nearly made me topple to the path.

It was Prince Dayvis' face that was plastered above the headline, something about him being caught shooting a passing-by StormTrooper in the leg, during a game of duck shooting with his friends.

Kylo chuckled a reply that is a somewhat, sarcastic, rolling of thunder that billows across the table and rattles my nerves. I glance between the two, like a puppy following a ball as they continue to converse between one another.

"He is a fighter, that's for certain." Kylo smirks, flicking his brown eyes to me and it drops somewhat.

_Was he mad at me?_

Mad at what! He practically spooned me all night! I roll my eyes when he looks away, raising my hand to my crown and hoping that he was only angry at the fact that I wore it.

The King shook his head and gave a knowing smile, that tug more to the right of his beard than the left.

"A lot of pent up anger perhaps?" He raised a brow and slightly chuckled, "Yes, he's always been a bit... _Explosive."_

Suddenly, the King's pale eyes are upon me and he gives me that same smile that he gave about the thought of his son – My stomach churns and the pastry is slowly rising in the middle of my throat: _I am not his daughter._

He extends a hand and rests it on my tense shoulder. I flinch beneath the touch, but Kylo Ren doesn't notice as the King adds, "Never-less, my daughter and I are very pleased to see him return from StarKiller in three days."

My heart drops. A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout my body. My stomach ached and my arms lost tension as my legs began to weaken. The Prince was returning?

_Does he know about me?_

Wide eyes, pupils dilated and a slack jaw, the King only basks in my shock as my heart thuds loudly against its cage of ribs, whilst I am held captive in his grip upon my shoulder.

"Aren't we dear? Are you excited to see your Brother again?" He taunts.

I squeak as he shakes my shoulder and then flush red lightly when I realise that both the King and the intimidating, Kylo Ren were awaiting an answer.

Despite my apprehension, I did what I had only been taught to do since I had been thrown into this palace and had a crown place upon my head: Lie.

_"Of course."_


	9. Nights And Mares

Hair of midnight black and a perfect pair of eyes to match beneath the framing of graceful brows, his skin was as tan as the workers' from the orchards, but his hands of jewels were so obviously not used for plucking nor trade. He had prominent cheekbones and a well-defined chin and nose. 

"Does he know about me?" I nod my head up the hallway and to the painting of Prince Dayvis which hung along the far-side of the wall, but even in this distance, his frozen eyes haunt me with a disparity of flooding nerves that await his return to a home where his sister isn't who he remembers her to be.

Ruby follows my gaze and rolls her eyes as we walk further down the halls and closer to the painting, on our casual stroll. "Yes, he's aware."

I stop before the picture and she mimics my frame as I wrap my arms around my back and hold onto my wrists tightly; A stance I had quickly picked up from her. 

My words are hesitated as my throat feels incredibly dry beneath his pastel stare. I had been given nightmares in the form of daydreams the moment the King had spoken of the Prince's arrival.

I gaped openly as I observed his sharp jaw, chin, and cheekbones. Much like my stance now, his long hands were twined behind his back as he stood somewhat to the side, bathed in riches of expensive clothes and gloves which he had even worn thick rings of gems above to prove his worthy, despite the crown above his head. 

His smirk was pensive in creating a sharp shiver down my spine, even though it was only a painting, but that only made me wonder how unnerving the real one could be.

I let out a shaky sigh.

"... Is he?" I speak lowly, "... Okay with my presence in the meanwhile – You know, before they find his sister?" My formal language has to improve before tomorrow, when the Prince will arrive and the King will throw a banquet much like the one for Kylo Ren, to celebrate his return – But all I can focus on lately is how to avoid Kylo as much as possible and not lodge the butterknife, _which I had stolen and hid in the case of my pillow,_ into the soft flesh of his neck as he sleeps beside me every-night. 

Bile rises in my throat when I think back to last night, when he held me close to his chest tightly, no remorse in the heartbeat which I was pressed against as I tried to cling onto the sheets to claw away.

_Forget the daydreams of fears, my life was the nightmare._

Ruby hums, "Honestly, who knows." She says flatly, and in moments like this, I am reminded of how uncaring she can truely be, "Prince Dayvis is a troubled boy, with no reason to be so. He's unpredictable..."

The bile which already sat in my throat, almost turned to acid. 

I wanted to look away from his frozen stare, but instead I stepped closer. Unwrapping my hands from one another, I raised a solemn finger and ran it across the canvass. The brush strokes were tiny and controlled, as if the painter was trying to tell me in the dull paint that the sociopathic smirk was just as true as the muse. 

"Unpredictable?" I question, dropping my hand and turning to Ruby, who, _unbelievably_ , had become the only person who I am most close to in this Kingdom, no matter how cold she is and despite how much I actually disliked her, which was as much as she hated me.

Ruby tuts and cocks her head to the side, signalling we should keep walking, which I follow shortly. "Lets just say..." She drags her words as the heels of her boots click down the halls, "– Prince Dayvis would have been a better pairing to Kylo Ren than the Princess... Or in this case, you."

I gulp down all my acid and let it swirl nervously in my stomach. 

Giving into the temptation which is now always here, I curl my fingers into my palms – A habit I used to fight when I was a child and stuck in a fearful, adults world of war; I grew out of it though, because Anwar would always tell me off, or intertwine his big, boney hand into mine to stop the blood from drawing. But without him, and with no warm hand holding my own, the habit had grown back as strong as the fear had returned also. 

The halls are dressed in stone and deep red velvets which are as dark as the hardwood floors are. The whole building sends a chill down my spine and reminds me just how my life had become something so unrealistic in this real nightmare. _I do not want to be here_ , that's all that circles my mind as we circle the palace, and all I am waiting for, every-time I blink, is to wake up from this place and return to the dull life I once lived sorrowfully with my grimy hands and my empty stomach – The life that the Universe had decided for me.

But unfortunately, it is also the Universe's fault I'm here, by giving me a vessel to live in which resembled another's who lived a life, so strikingly different to my own. 

Who ever had built this Kingdom from lonesome stone until it had built a castle structure, must have lived in a depressive world as I did, either that or it was created by someone obsessed by grey and dark, rich tones, as even the curtains and painted windows, provided me the overall impression of drabness. I longed to paint the doors rainbow with my smeared hands of smushed fruits from the orchard, but soon enough, dark hardwood soon turns to light stone and laughter bounces all along the courtyards from the palace people, who joined the songbirds and rustling trees with their conversations and footsteps, as Ruby and I, walked side-by-side only in silence.

All the plants which lined the stones seem to reach up for the sunlight, feeling trapped in their beautiful pots and seeking true freedom as much as I do as butterflies flit in-between them and I. 

A breath of air brushes my ear and I follow the breeze and watch one, blue butterfly sway in the summer heat and flutter away into the distance. It's wings curtaining a hue of beauty in my nightmare as it flickers its colours over to the man of darkness, who stood in the distance with a short smile on his face. 

Kylo Ren – The monster in my dream.

He had wolfish amber eyes that shun in the glaze of brown like limpid pools of gold that adorned his exceptionally pale face. With long dark hair that hovered above his shoulders like a fountain of molten obsidian and a prominent nose, Kylo Ren wasn't anything extraordinary or remarkable in his features, and yet, as my vision morphed from the bright butterfly and focussed onto him like the twist of a lens, I felt somehow, magically drawn to those serious and silent features, that whispered power and abuse in the tension, until those lips drew into a smile which lied about something else.

Though, I had made a new habit alongside the cuts in my palms, which included, always avoiding his gaze, I couldn't help but linger my eyes upon him as he waved me over with those two, leathered fingers. 

I broke the stare, only to look over to Ruby, who was already somewhat, retreating away after giving me a simple nod, which basically confirmed that I was on my own. I sigh. Ruby was an intimidating person, with her high shoulders, straight spine, harsh words and tilted chin, but she sure did not like to mess with anyone who could be a contender. 

My frazzled nerves jumped all together, and in different directions all around him as I trudged over, much like the hundreds of butterflies which seemed to now follow the blue one from before – Gods, I would much rather be one of them instead. I might have only been a moth in the pack, but never-less, I could still fly away.

"Princess," He breathes, leaning against the stone pillar beside him as he looks me up and down, "As beautiful as ever." He adds, but I don't give into the compliment, instead, I only narrow my eyes and cock my head towards my shoulder.

"What do you want?" I deadpan. 

Kylo's eyes turn dark in the late sunshine and his smile threatens to turn into a scowl and as the fright begins to tighten in my chest, I notice a pair of StormTroopers walk by, reminding me that even if he was going to use those tightened fists to hurt me, he surely couldn't do it here, out in the open. He may be Kylo Ren, but this is Jorkhan's Kingdom, and I am supposably, the Princess – But as the StormTroopers passed, I wondered if they would have even interjected if Kylo did anything, for they were apart of The First Order originally, and Kylo would one day, be their Supreme Leader. 

But punches never came and neither did the smack of harsh words, "I wanted to spend some time with you." He simply said and my eyes only slanted further in question and disbelief.

I can still feel the fear in my chest waiting to take over. Perhaps, it only wants to protect me but its presence is almost as overwhelming as his as it sits there like an angry flood propelling me towards an anxiety that I just don't need as I look to his danger. I swallow the lump of false acid in my throat, but its aftertaste lingers on the edge of my tongue. 

"Oh, yeah?" I sneer towards him, curling my fingers into my palms once more, "Is your training buddy too beaten to play today? Huh – Is that what you want? Someone else to smack around?"

Kylo Ren glanced over to my twisted mouth that snapped at him, the corners of his own lips fighting a smile, as his eyebrows slightly raised. I looked away before that mischievous look of his spread, and I could have walked away had it not been for the smirk that rose after. That little rise in the corner of his mouth, combined with the shrug of his broad shoulders, proved he was truely savouring my disgruntled features as he tried to not laugh as he said,

"Sadly, no – That's not why I wanted to spend time with you." His deep voice, tried to fight the chuckle that eventually followed, "I wanted to see if you would accompany me to the stables once more."

My heart swelled at the mention of the stables and one of my heartstrings were tug upon as if they were tied to the comforting reminder of Anwar and his horses. But I only tried to silence my harmonic strings, to fight back once more. Even if he was showing sudden kindness, I still couldn't forget his cruelty. 

"Did you forget what happened the last time we were at the stables?" I question, still standing my ignorant ground, "You slapped me to the floor."

Kylo bites at the corner of his mouth and flickers his eyes to the sky and then back onto me, "Maybe, we could pretend that didn't happen?" He smiles and I scoff. "Come on, Princess, I can clearly sense the desire within you to go to the stables... Why don't we just start all over?"

My heartstrings shrieked. _He can sense my feelings?!_

Feeling conflicted, I wanted to prove to him my unwillingness to accompany him, but at the same time, all I longed for was to get as far away from these stone walls and see the horses once more – Using them as a distraction. Maybe, if I closed my eyes for a short moment at the stables, and Kylo Ren could just be quiet, I could pretend for a split second, that I was back at the orchard, with Anwar by my side?

I chewed at the inside of my cheek, almost mimicking the flash of white that bit at his own lips. Rolling my eyes, I groan and ignore the distaste in my mouth as I mutter, "I'm only going because I want to see the horses, not because I want to be with you."

In his arrogant triumph, his smirk only grew, and he tilted his head back in a notion of victory. It was so subtle, but it was even more infuriating to me, who caught the glimpse of it. I continued,

"But!" I snapped, raising a pointed finger below his tilted chin, "I will not just simply forget all that you have done to me, and we shall _never_ start all over."

The air is sweet and the weather is fine as the suns peak behind the fluffy, white clouds, awaiting for the next hour, where they will finally start to fall down into the horizon for slumber. There are birds in the sky, as many as there are butterflies and the short grass is the greenest colour I have ever seen, as it was cut short but still swashed below our feet as we walked in silence. I should be running as fast as I can away from the man beside me, but right now, I just want to smell the spring flowers and run my hands over the manes of the horses ahead. There's something about being outside that evaporates my fear, maybe the fresh air scent reminds me the freedom which is just in reach but never obtainable, I'm not sure – But my body has already begun to relax, until his gloved hand brushes mine shortly. 

I snap my hands tightly to my thighs, ignoring it as I only watched him and all of his darkness, through my peripherals. 

When I see the stables, tucked away by the edge of the palace, I only flick my gaze to the spot where Kylo had smacked me down to, and then back onto the three horses who nibbled at the longer grass behind the wooden fence, where small signs order people to not scale the fence or feed the animals.

My footing slows and so does my heartbeat. It's painful to my soul when I look over to the long barn that sat beside it, resembling a richer, nicer version of the one Anwar worked in, but still, it caused a tiny flicker of fire to burn in the midst of dying embers that dusted my caged heart.

My hands cling onto the wooden fence around the paddock and I take my time to flutter my eyes shut and just take in the familiar senses around me. Horse shoes trudging against the cushion of grass. Birds whistling among the trees. The smell of soil and hard labour. The feel of my hair swaying in the breeze. Anwar's deep breathes beside me. 

I almost want to lean into his shoulder, until I am reminded it isn't the blonde boy from home.

I open my eyes and notice, he is already staring down to me.

I let out a slow, controlled breath and attempt to loosen my stiff shoulders as I look away and pick out the horse from the other night I had come here. I whispered below my breath, for the mare to return to the fence, but the black beauty never did.

The horse only stayed far away to the other end of the fence, noticing our return but not welcoming it as if it remembered Kylo. A penetrating coolness trickled over the suns that began to retreat, reflecting in Kylo's dark eyes as he looked over to the horse that I muttered to.

"Is that one your favourite?" He questioned, breaking the silence that I wished could have stayed.

My eyes run across every other horse. He didn't know that I had only been here once, but I did, and though I shouldn't have had a favourite yet. The black horse seemed to be the only horse that was comfortable enough to walk over that night and suddenly, I realise that I may have been drawn to her as a little reminder of the horse that Anwar brushed moments before I was whisked away in The First Order's vehicles.

"I suppose..." I tilt my head to the side at the horse in the distance.

He is still staring, "How come?"

I swallow harshly, no mind to how much it feels as if I am swallowing shards of shattered glass, "I don't know." I lie – But I did know, though I am sure Kylo nor the King would be happy with my reasoning.

_'It's because it reminds me of the man I love's, favourite horse.'_

Kylo Ren's face was never readable, like he had left his emotions on whatever ship that had brought him to Jorkhan. But as I flicked my gaze, secretly back onto him, he turned in a way which I hadn't anticipated and our eyes met. Him not the blank page, he liked to project and me taken aback. After an awkward moment, the corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek.

Suddenly, he turns back to the fence, and like me, he grips his leather gloves over the top of the fence, but they don't stay there for long as he uses the wood for leverage as he just kicks his leg over the side and drops down into the paddock, completely ignoring the signs.

My mouth is agape all at once and my eyes blow wide as I lurch my chest closer to the fence, but keep my fingers curled tightly on the beam.

"What are you doing?!" I hush at him with my shocked features, "Get back over to this side!"

That smirk is ever prominent and it is as if his muscles weren't forged on the weapon of destroying as he kicks a foot in the long grass of the paddock. "What?" He chimes, "No. You come over here."

Mischief lurks in his lips and eyes as I stare widely upon him with a creased forehead. It was there to see as plainly as the falling leaves in the sunset, but it still drew me in no matter the consequences. Trouble is a contagion, and Anwar had gotten me hooked to it, the moment I had met him, but suddenly it wasn't Anwar who was motioning me to do something that I shouldn't, it was the future King of Jorkhan, it was the future Supreme Leader of The First Order. 

"Just jump the fence and come see the horse." Kylo Ren says, as if I was the one trained to scale high objects, not him, "It will be worth it, I promise."

I bite my bottom lip and glance between the monster of my nights and the mare in the distance. 

Even in the slums, I was never the one to follow the rules, the healing gashes on my back could tell you easier than I ever could. And as I kicked my boot onto the first row of wood among the fence, I lodge the heel in and then step onto the one above with my other, climbing the fence like a ladder, and pretending the sign was never there to begin with as my long dress covers it as I sit upon the top of the fence. 

Kylo trudges over quickly, and before I can protest, he grabs onto my waist with his large hands and lifts me down as if I weighed nothing at all. His hands linger for a short moment and so does his gaze as my boots kiss the grass – I break the tension and tear my eyes away from his, brushing the splinters from my palms on the thighs of my dress and then adjusting the crown above my head as I smile towards the black horse in the distance. 

"I better not get in trouble for this." I grumble to Kylo Ren, who follows my quick pace over to the mare, "This is all your doing."

"Of course." 

The horse was not above medium size, but she was alert as her left eye noticed me draw in, with Kylo closely behind. She somewhat, retreated backwards a couple of steps, but until Kylo stopped his footing, so did she. 

With muscles that roll underneath the supple, black coat that hangs majestically on the frame. A flowing mane unfurls and whips as the sunset wind calls it, feet that pound the ground in my welcoming. 

The horse was a beauty, glossy as silk, and naked as the day when she was born. I delicately run my hands around her snout, and then twine them through her mane as I hush small whispers, the same way I did that night.

"She does, indeed like you." Kylo hums from behind, thinking back to the same thing he had said that night. 

I smile softly to myself and her, rubbing my hands in circular motions, the way Anwar had taught me years ago, with his skinny, tan hand above my own, "And I like her too." I hum. 

The horse was so calm in my hands with her big, genuine eyes, that I even partially wondered if she was a horse that Anwar had raised and sold, to which I may have met a long time ago... But surely, that was impossible.

The soft spring soil was no match for its hooves as it dug them suddenly into the grass as her head extended forwards but laid her ears flat back. Puffs of moisture escaping from her nostrils, I glanced back, past Kylo and to the wooden fence I had climbed, curious to know what had the mare so rattled.

Kylo turns too, when the man in overalls, calls out to us with a disgruntled face of sweaty beads and potent veins.

"Did you read the sign!?" The stranger yelled over the field as he crossed it. 

The mare fled away, and I let her do so as I walked to Kylo Ren's side willingly for once. 

The man came over and his face was red, but I couldn't figure out if that was from anger or many hours spent in the now, drawing away, suns. 

He wore clothes of plaid and denim overalls that were too long in the legs, so he had rolled them above his rich, leather boots that still proved his worthy, no matter how much soil was embedded beneath his short, rough nails.

"It says, do not climb fence." He bickers as he lowers his voice when he comes closer, "– And what did you two do? You climbed the fence!"

The man's eyes flicker from Kylo Ren's mess of black robes and then to the crown above my head, but it seemed he didn't care for our titles as he looked back to my eyes and tilted his head to the side whilst throwing his arms back in the air.

"What happened to you promising not to go into the paddock?" He questioned now, softly. "I specifically remember you and your Brother shaking on it, the last time I had caught you."

I'm in a frozen state, that doesn't know how to get myself out of this situation. There is no smile on my lips anymore, only the parting of them as I try to muster up a lie on the spot. My pupils became dilated and there was a tremor in my hands, to which I coiled together below my abdomen.

_Get a grip._ I curse to myself.

"I-I am sorry, Sir." I apologise, and the words sound rough against my tongue, as if someone of my supposed, title, shouldn't be apologising to a bald man in denim overalls. 

Suddenly, Kylo Ren furrows his brows and looks down to me and then back to the man. 

"Leave us be." He demands with his strong voice, and all at once, my eyes have widened at the force of the words. The bald man does the same, but then narrows them at the Apprentice, uncaring of the silver weapon among his belt, as if the mess of rope that were hooked into his own, were a match to the lightsaber.

"Excuse me?" The man scoffed, "This is my paddock, and the King has always trusted me to take care of his horses. I shall not just leave you be, there is a sign for a reason and I am sure the King wouldn't be pleased to hear about his daughter scaling the fence again like she did when she was thirteen."

Kylo Ren rolled his eyes, "So what? You're going to snitch on the Princess to the King?"

The bald man stood in his ground, no matter how much he had to crane his head to look up to the dark tower of Kylo Ren, "I'm not snitching. The King had always advised me to tell him anything that may be trouble to his animals." He ruffed, "And you and her, are trouble to the horses."

I gasped at the mention of the King finding out. I can't give that man another reason to threaten my life, "Please, don't!"

Kylo hummed for a short moment, and as he looked back to me, I presumed the Apprentice to be agreeing with the tamer's words and retreating calmly. 

I was just about ready to apologise once more and make my way back over to the fence, when Kylo Ren then turned unnervingly, slowly back to the bald man and cocked his devious face to the side.

His hand stretched out and his leather fingers curled in the air. My mind flickers back to the way he had force-choked me in his bedroom, and I unleash a mess of loud protests for him to stop, but I am quickly rushed to silence when the man never heaves for short breaths and Kylo only calmly speaks to him once more. 

"You will allow the Princess to see the horses."

The man's face froze. His mouth was slightly turned down, as his eyebrows only raised; He looked like he was ready to cry, or on the verge of a trance that was too unbreakable to not follow in Kylo Ren's unbelievable obtain of power. 

My lips only parted once again as I listened to Kylo's next words, nearly as following as much the bald man he swayed into his power, was.

"You will walk away, and never return to the Palace."

My eyebrows furrow.

The tamer's face showed feelings of sorrow, but he only nodded slowly, as if there was a weight pushing down his head instead of him doing so.

"You will also, never speak of this again and you will apologise to the Princess."

The man apologises a wrath of sorries and then... I felt sorry too. I don't know why, I guess it was contagious. Our eyes didn't make contact and maybe that was the best as Kylo withdrew his magnetic grip. Then, he sighed and with his bald head hung low, he walked away limply into the distance. Far away from the Palace I suppose and never to return. 

My stomach churns and my hands fall into those dreadful fists once more as the rationality of it all settles like cement over my thin framing of bones. 

Kylo had just told the man to do something. And he just did it. It wasn't coercion, it was as if he had reached into the gears of the man's mind and made his choices for him instead with his leather hands and sly words. 

All the calm of the sunset and the horse has faded into the dusk as the moon rises high in the sky, as did my anxiety. It comes as an electrical storm in my brain that, quite honestly, is painful. It's different from a headache and it feels the same as intense sorrow, perhaps as a sort of frozen panic with nowhere to go, because truely, there is nowhere to go. What if Kylo uses those powers on me? Would I just give the shifts to my mind as easily as Kylo had overthrown the man's? 

I lick my lips and slowly look back to Kylo, who is watching all of the apprehension build once again. As if he could read my thoughts as easily as my emotions, he suddenly, shakes his head in the dusk and sighs with tense shoulders. 

"Don't worry..." He promises me with a soft tone, as he looks to my curling lips and then to my white knuckled mess of coiled hands, "I wouldn't ever do that to you."

I inhale a sharp breath and lick my dried up lips again, "H-How am I suppose to believe that?" I croak, "You have used your force to choke me already – What's to stop you from just controlling my mind to better fit your satisfactions?"

Kylo shakes his head once again and takes a small step forwards, as if I was the fearful horse who could sprint away swiftly with one wrong movement, "Because I would never want to dig into your mind without permission."

"You will never have permission to do anything of that sort." I frantically throw a pointed finger over to the man who walked with a purpose, away from the lights of the Palace. 

Kylo Ren stood for a short while, so frozen in his state that it seemed I had put him in a trance as well, but then unexpectedly, he moved closer and his large hand drifted to my hip, causing a frightened gasp to leave my lips as I tried to pry away but he only grabbed onto my hands instead, and held them close to his chest.

"Then, I promise you, Princess –" Beneath the dusk, his dark eyes were still shining as golden as the crown above my head. Kylo held my hands so warmly to his chest, that I could feel the beat beneath them, instead of pressed to my back like it would in his bed, but this time, I didn't particularly want to embed my butterknife into the beat and coerce it to a silence – No, this time, I just let him hold my hands there as he pleaded to me as if he was a servant and I was truely, the Princess that I pretended to be, "I promise you – That I will never dig for anything from your mind, or control you with the force."

I swallow shortly and blink quickly, trying to focus in the sudden darkness, "You promise me? How often do you make promises?"

His lip lightly tugs into that smirk once again, but not the type of one that haunts my nightmares, instead, the coy smile was one that could resemble the warm promise that he truely meant as he whispered to me his next words, 

_"Never."_


	10. The Prince

Kylo twirled the wine glass by the stem and stared through the end as he drank from it, as if I was his muse in the chaos that danced around us. 

The King's elite had practically stormed the great hall upon the news of the banquet to celebrate Prince Dayvis' arrival, with their polished golds, finest suits and dresses, hair high and glasses never empty, the people who danced, cheered and mingled below the high table were so impossibly excited for the Prince's return, that it was almost obvious the real reason they had come again, was for the free, rich wine that they chugged all night long.

Mine sat full before me on the table, turning lukewarm in its neglect as Kylo sat to my right, somewhat talking to General Hux, but neither of them really cared what the other was saying as I watched their bland stares and dry conversations. 

Ruby sat to the left with her wine glass held delicately in her limping hands which were beginning to become numb with how much she was drinking and every-time she laughed to the stranger beside her, or slapped her hand on his shoulder, I winced with the risk of the glass falling to the floor and shattering like it had already tonight, yet every-time she spilt the crimson in her cup, she only chuckled nonchalantly and poured herself another glass.

Tables filled with heated and frozen meals elope the edges of the hall. Everything you can think of, and things you have never dreamed of, lie in wait. Plates and patters filled with various meats and concoctions of vegetables and fruits, rich desserts and enough wine to flood the city, there was enough food to feed the starved, and yet, some dishes have sat completely untouched for the past three hours – And I taste the fury that boils in my blood as I remember the way the King, who sat in his throne, had mocked that he would feed his breakfast to the pigs – It wouldn't surprise me if all this wasted food would go to them too.

The guests were almost screaming with joy and could feel their feet disturbing the ground around me. Without looking, their smiles sometimes extended towards me and I had to nod my head with my own, pretending as if I knew them and when some of them took that as a chance to come up and talk, I always thanked them for coming and _"Oh, it's been so long since I've seen you!"_ I have said to at least, five different people already, so much so, that I'm beginning to form a headache from all the stress of acting and the apple's of my cheeks are starting to burn from forcing tight smiles. 

Their bodies moved together as they celebrated, rhythmically breaking into shapes and colours that tickled my heart at the happiness in their eyes. The scene reminded me of the small gatherings we would have in the South-Eastern parts of Jorkhan, where we would all grab our cleanest clothes and have a feast much like this one in the empty fields, only there was no food nor wine – But sometimes, we did harvest enough soiled fruits and gave them to a man who used to work with Anwar at the stables because he had a true talent of fermenting the fruits further and would cultivate them into a grotesque form of wine – Though, I had never been the one to drink it, after one night where Anwar got so intoxicated that I had to stay the night in the stable with him because I couldn't carry him home myself. 

Oh, how I'd much rather be in that smelly stable with an even smellier, drunk Anwar than here, right now. I used to crave the sensation of fullness and the richness year round before I was taken here and told to play the role of someone I am not – But now, an empty stomach is only a small flicker of pain compared to the torture of sitting beside a beast of a man and awaiting the arrival of another, who is most likely not going to enjoy pretending that I am his Sister.

The music was so loud that it made my skin tingle and my lungs feel like mush. The drums thumped in time with my heartbeat as though they were one, filling me from head to toe with music. If I were somewhere else, I may have enjoyed this song, but right now as I sat here and watched the people below, I only thought as the music to be the tune my fear marches to, that awaits the arrival of the incredibly late, Prince. 

Kylo Ren hasn't drank as much as Ruby, but that doesn't stop his big hand from resting on my thigh. The first two times he had lingered his fingers above the material of my dress, I had flinched my legs away from his touch, but on the third try, he had only sunk his grip around me and held me in place. 

I roll my eyes and heave my shoulders downwards as I discontinue listening to the bland conversation between him and the General, as I then, swap my focus to tipsy Ruby beside me and her friends who are the same.

Suddenly, the King leans as far forwards as he can over the food that lays before him and calls out to Ruby, who immediately stops her sloppy conversation with the man beside her and straightens her shoulders, erases the haze from her blue eyes and coughs away any sign of intoxication, although the King has had much more than her.

"Where's my Son?" He asks her, erupting in a soft cough as well, afterwards.

Ruby shakes her head and furrows her brows in question, glancing to the closed, golden doors and then back to the King, "I do not know, Your Majesty." She answers, and as I watch them through my peripherals, I pray that the Prince has become lost and cannot return – But what then? Would the King just find another male from the slums to play the role of the Prince?

The old, greying man curls his hands around his ravaged plate of what was, steak and vegetables, "That young man has never failed to follow his own rules." He shakes his head, "He's probably already laying his grimy hands upon the private wine cellars with his friends like he has done since he was eight."

His words earn a small chuckle from the swaying Ruby, who almost looks back to the King as if she is recalling his memory also, "Most likely, Your Majesty." Ruby nods and smiles, reaching for her glass once more and speaking into it before the wine tilts to her red lips, "I'm sure he will join the celebration soon – It isn't like him to not want all of the attention."

The King laughs, its deep and almost more preposterous than the music that surrounds, bringing a chill to my spine and causing my hands to shake and my thigh to bounce nervously beneath Kylo's hand. 

Kylo's hand curls tighter and I can almost feel the need to play in the pulse he brings as he begins to circle his fingertips around the material of my dress. When another woman comes up, she has some sort of animal's fur wrapped around her shoulders and bile rises into my throat as I furrow my gaze towards it. She cups my hands and congratulates me on my engagement to the man beside me, who is now back to talking to General Hux about something to do with The First Order. 

"Thank you." I croak softly to the woman, flicking my gaze away from the fur and focussing only on the full glass before me. I can see my reflection in the crimson and my eyes are clearly wide and I can almost see the anxious tendencies swimming in the colour around my pupils.

I hate this. I hate this place. I hate their fake cheers. The waste of valuable food. The gold that glistens upon everyone's frames, including my own, which should be wearing dirt and soot instead of a crown and expensive dresses that smell of supple lavender. 

The more time that passes, I want to go home. I miss the slums. I miss Anwar. I even miss the orchards.

In one quick motion, I grab my glass of wine and introduce it to my dry lips. I take tiny sips first, wincing at the bitterness but before, I didn't want to chew on my nails or lips, so I then, found myself gnawing on the inside of my cheek until it bled, so swashing this wine around my mouth and then swallowing, is the only thing that can dull my nerves. Soon, tiny sips turn to mouthfuls and when the skinny, servant with a wine bottle in his hands comes over, I motion him closer and practically snatch the bottle out of his hands.

Pouring myself another glass, I hiccup silently and taste the remnants of the wine from before, shuddering at the aftertaste only to then wash it away with more.

As an hour went by, I poured my frightened soul into the wine glass and drunk it dry, my fingers were warm on the coolness of bowed glass, but soon I couldn't feel anything and often let the glass slip as Ruby had done so before. I never held it by the stem, not like every other person here did, but instead, I cupped the bowl of the glass in my right hand, the way a commoner might and if I was in the right headspace, I might have cared but right now, I couldn't care any less as everyone else was already more intoxicated than I was. 

Kylo Ren wasn't particularly intoxicated though, and as I drank in silence, hoping that the answer to all my fears lies at the bottom of the glass, _and then the bottle,_ I notice him sometimes watching me chug back the crimson, bitter wine and at the start, he often chuckled at the way my face would contort into a grimace at the taste, until I began to not taste it at all.

Few words exchanged between us. And the words that are spoken are slurred and senseless from my side and often brushed away with my hand in the air, signalling to him that I do not wish to talk to him, but then he furrows those thick eyebrows down to me and cocks his head slightly, allowing the chandeliers to glisten upon his perfect flesh and the wine in my glass to hope to one day be as rosy as his lips.

"Are you drunk?" He breathes to me in his deep voice, the syllables falling off his tongue lightly as if he said them so low, for nobody else to hear but me.

My hands gripped the glass tighter and my eyes swivelled towards the back of my head in a attempt to roll them, but I only felt the distressed sense of a headache as I turned my gaze to him. Lingering my stare on the constellations of his freckles, I tilted my glass to my lips once again and I took a long swig of the dark substance that affected me. 

I sigh as the wall behind his head, seems to move in a beat motion, maybe the same pulse as my heart. Swallowing, I part my lips and withdraw the wine glass, my breath was the underlying cause of the smell of alcohol that entered my nostrils, and my mouth was sore from the amount of alcohol that I poured down my throat, but I couldn't focus on anything as the walls began to sway around his dark eyes – Just like the glass in my hands, my reflection shined in the warm browns, but no longer were my eyes wide with fear, but droopy with a final sense of ease that I have needed for so long now. 

Am I drunk? I'm not so sure, but the haze in my drooped eyes in the reflection was the same type of look that Anwar had given me a couple of times in those nights in the stable.

Kylo's hand grips tighter around my thigh, almost in warning but I cannot even feel if his grip is painful in its threat or not. He speaks again, his voice rougher and slower, "You're drunk." He sighs, not needing me to answer his previous question anymore as he has ruled the answer himself. 

Scowling, I look down to his hand and my head feels heavy on my neck as I narrow my hazy gaze upon the white knuckles, "Get your hand off of me." I rasp slow as if I was tired or my tongue couldn't properly work.

Ruby claps behind me and erupts in a loud fit of laugher, as do the people around her as they howl over something one of them had slurred. My flinch at the sound of her clap is delayed and I raise my head back up, to reveal Kylo still staring deeply at me, whilst his hand also still remains.

He hums and shakes his head after flicking his eyes to Ruby behind and then to everyone else, who chugs wine as if it is water. "Maybe, I should take you back to our quarters." He says, more so to himself. 

"No!" I practically cry, holding the wine glass close to my chest, causing some of the liquid to jump in the bowl and splat upon the material of my dress – I pay it no mind, but Kylo lingers his eyes to the stain and then back to me. 

"Come on, don't be ignorant now." He shakes his head, as if he is my guardian – But I must admit, the candlelight glow that beacons around him, is giving that same effect. "Let's get you to bed, it is late anyway."

I gasp lowly to myself upon his words, and suddenly, that fear returns to my system – But this time, it doesn't just sit upon my chest and try to smother me with its atrocity, it prickles my numb flesh and causes my heart to thud erratically against my ribs as if it is trying to escape in the midst of pulsating my intoxicated blood which is coursing my veins slowly, whilst trying to fight off my nerves.

A bed is no longer a plush sanctuary in this palace, it is a mattress that I lay upon with trembling bones that Kylo tries to coax into his tight grip. It is a soft pillow that my nightmare's should have been dreamt upon, but instead the monster of my reality is the one who's heart beats in the chest laid behind me.

I swallow slowly and the foul aftertaste returns, "No." I repeat.

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye and his mouth formed a rigid grimace but he then pursed his lips tightly. Looking me down and right through me. I felt so incredibly worthless beneath his gaze that I struggled to stare into his own. 

"Why not?" Kylo spits, "You're not having a hint of fun anyway – Are you forgetting that I can sense your emotions?"

His words caused waves of nausea that added to my misery. An overwhelming sense of repulse flooding my system in a harsh strike threatening a tsunami. It hit me hard causing me to swallow my spit but my throat kept clenching.

I feel somewhat violated that he can sense everything that is going on inside of me and I could only hope that he never used his advantage against me – But, he already had. Multiple times. There's no fight with Kylo Ren. He will always win, but that doesn't mean I cannot be a contender. 

Maybe, it's the wine in me, who blurts out my next words, or maybe, my subconscious – I'm not so sure which one of them is the cause, maybe both? But it doesn't matter, because I was the tongue who spoke them and when they were spoken, his eyes immediately turned darker than they could already be and he reached to snatch the wine glass out of my hands.

"If I go back to your quarters, then I have to spend the rest of the night trying to fight my way out of your hold." I grit, leaning in closer so he can hear the anger in my tone beyond the blaring drums, "Your hand is already unbearable upon my thigh –" I take a hand off of my glass and smack his away, "So, just leave me alone."

When he reaches for my glass, I try to whisk it away from his grip but I am too slow and he gets a hold of the stem for a short moment before I let it go and then it crashes to the floor and shatters into a million tiny pieces – The liquid inside, splattering all over my dress.

I gasp at the wide stain that bleeds into the light green material, seeming as if I had just been stabbed in my abdomen and I was slowly loosing all of my blood into the dress. Ruby turns and sighs at the mess around us, but turns back around before she can conjure up a hint of care. 

Tearing my gaze to Kylo, our scowls almost match as we sit in a heavy silence, although the hall is loud around our tension. 

All the reasons not to do this come flooding in, but it is as if my body chemistry just sent them a blank invitation as I clear my throat and stand up from my chair, just to nearly fall back down in an unbalanced attempt. Regaining my footing, I scoff to Kylo once, whilst brushing against the wetness of my dress with a paper napkin, causing little tendrils of soggy paper to then litter among the green.

"Look what you have done," I mutter below my breath, my slurs ever present, "Always ruining everything."

When the paper towel is only torn to shreds and the crimson is still deep upon my dress, I raise a finger to Kylo, who remains seated sideways on his chair, his long legs wide and back hunched in as he rests his strong arms against his thighs whilst he watches my failed attempts of removing wine stains.

With only one step begin taken, Kylo grabs onto my wrist tightly, his fingers clasping around the bone as if it was smaller than a needle in his hold. He gives me a pensive look, with his thick eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased around the harsh glare, "Where are you going?"

I could feel my dress beginning to stick coldly to my chest, overtaking the state of drunkenness with a sickening feeling as the scent of wine fills my nostrils. Glaring down to Kylo dully, the same way he might look down to me, I yank my wrist out of his grip and stagger down the path behind the long table and over to the stairs that lead to the main floor, gripping onto the backs of chairs to keep my wobbly pace upright as I turn around to him and wave a finger to the restrooms in the back corner,

"Bathrooms." I point out to him, as if it was obvious and then motion to my incredibly ruined dress, "I'm going to try and fix this mess."

I ignore the way my gaze shifts around him, almost pushing away all of the sounds and colour that doesn't directly come from him. His raven hair, pale complexion, warm eyes that shine cold with his demeanour, his broad body and deep tones. And when I turn back around before he can say anything else, the motion of swivelling my head, causes the rest of the room to move around me slower, almost bringing me into a sense of euphoria in the midst of an overdose that hijacks my mind into a withdrawn state. 

The crowd is crammed into the hall, like too many fish in one small fishbowl. They sway around me as I push my way through and I couldn't particularly tell if they moved out of my way because of the golden crown on my head, or instead, like me, they were too impossibly drunk to notice who was who and what was what.

The harsh scent of drink can be smelt of my person. I know it, and so does everyone one else and now because I no longer hold a wine glass in my hand to chug, the smell is overbearing and causes a wave of nausea to rush over me without the very drink to wash it down without sobriety. They can see me struggling to keep my balance, and I know I'm struggling to keep it a secret.

As I try to claw my way over to the back half of the room, I purposely tear my eyes away from the variety of food on the sides and hold my breath as the bile rises in my throat, forging like burning acid and bringing a small coat of sweat to rise upon my flesh.

Everything is spinning around me and it doesn't matter if I slow my movements or quicken them, the hall keeps chaotically turning. It's like some sort of out-of-body experience. My legs don't work as I tell them. Neither do my hands or my fingers as I use them to slightly nudge shoulders out of my way. Somewhere, deep inside I know my brain is sending signals telling me what to do. Whether or not my body is listening is a different story. I can feel it moving. It can feel it doing what it wants. Can I stop it? We all know the answer to that. It's doing as it pleases as instead of turning to the restroom in the corner, I go straight to the golden doors instead. 

As I reached for the handle, the other side is pushed open before my trembling, sweaty hands are able to make contact with the gold. Smoke from outside in the bitter, night's air billowed inside and trickled against my burning flesh, immediately bringing my rosy cheeks to slumber as two women dressed the same, walked inside without even flicking their gaze to me as they were submerged in their high-pitched chatter.

Inhaling a large breath of the cool air, it wasn't enough to bring the nausea to rest also, so without any further investigation or thought, I slipped right out of the banquet and into the courtyards.

Candles tucked into cages, hung from the pillar ceilings that surround the stone path which meets the grass of the courts, and the flames swirled in the momentary light that streamed out until the door swung shut behind me, then bringing the small flickers of fire, to rise in their cages and illuminate the dark night that surrounds. The music is dulled behind the golden doors, but many people still linger around the entrance, leaving the voices to never dwell. I toppled down the one step and onto the pavement and the bushes and pillars in front of me, where people sat amongst in their finest clothes, dripping ash from their cigars onto the material, swayed like they were part of an illusion. 

Swallowing at least a hundred times, the lump in my throat never left and with the laughter of a young man to the side, came a pierce to my ears and I wince. Grabbing the crown of my head, I held it limply by my side and began to use the pillars as a guide down the hall. 

When the voices finally minimise, I begin to slow my footing which clicks on the pavement harshly, and after only six more, staggering paces I doubled over, almost loosing my balance completely and crashing to the next pillar, my hands wrapping around them and holding me barely, upright. 

My crown fell to the stone below loudly, clinking and swirling down into the bushes below. I groan and throw my head back, hoping that it didn't crack or lose a jewel. Curling my hair behind my ears, I retreat from the pillar I had fallen against and crouch low to the edge of the path, where it drops low to bushes and flower beds. 

Sighing, I sit on the edge and let my clean boots meet the dirt of the bush, as I squint my eyes and try to find the missing crown, but all I can see below the candle lights are the dull greens of the shrubs below the moons. 

The sounds had ebbed to nothingness, now only the silence was as pure as the flowers that I tear apart in search of the golden crown, I could hear ringing in my ears and my shallow breathing. 

_How could I be so stupid?_

First, I got impossibly drunk on wine that doesn't even taste nice, leaving me stumbling, slurring and nauseous. Now, I have lost the crown and I had just practically run away from a banquet for the second time – Some kind of Princess, I am. Surely, the King will kill me for my incompetence before they ever find the real Princess.

I'm muttering and seething incoherent words beneath my breath as I hunch over my own knees in search for the crown which is nowhere in sight of the bush of flowers, where even in the dark, is still a garland of the most vibrant blooms that stretch all along the courtyards and opened stone halls.

The sweet, almost sickly, smell of the flowers cut through the soft scent of the night's dewy grass and they are made of colours to weave dreams from. As soft and lush as any silk as I run my hand over a broken petal in a short moment, noticing how their beauty resembled a sense of perfection which matched every crook and corner of the Kingdom, but as I then wince at the mess I had made, their stalks now limp, I pick another up and twirl it in my fingers.

I inwardly curse, for the thorns below the beauty is what pricks me.

Suddenly, I drop the flower to my feet and gasp, for an unfamiliar voice creeps from behind me. 

"Not enjoying the celebration?" 

I abruptly turn around with wide eyes that try to peer into the darkness of the hall, squinting at the silhouette, which leans against the stone wall casually. The shadow is dependant upon the dim candle cages above, which barely reach the figure, a passing memento to become nothing at all under the starlit night. 

I swallow the nervous lump in my throat and speak to the shadow, hoping that the apprehension that is casted upon my face, is as hidden as his. 

"Who's speaking?" I utter. 

At the sound of my own voice, I felt the world rocking beneath me and my mind drifted in and out like a tide, once again in my intoxication. Though my vision wavered, there was one thing I was sure of, the figure fails to move in the inky darkness and I only narrow my eyes further when the man's voice speaks once more, brighter than his figure could be, "I am quite offended by your unknowing." 

I roll my eyes, ignoring the way they slow on their return. Was this just another person who I had to pretend to know? Even though, I secretly think that the majority of the guests who I have shaken hands with tonight, the real Princess had yet to meet.

Turning back to the open courtyard and grinding the heels of my lace up, tight boots into the dirt, I fold my arms above my legs and sigh to the guest behind me, "Well, I have met a lot of people tonight, so excuse my unknowing." I snap bitterly. 

The man behind, only chuckles lowly to himself and after the tone of his laughter, I hear the click of his shoes among the floors, nearing my spot on the side of the stone way, between two pillars andme who is, _basically,_ sitting in the garden. 

The man sighs and leans against the pillar a couple of feet beside me, and I only glance to the shiny surface of his perfect, leather shoes and then back to my hands in my lap, noticing the way blood draws from the prick in my forefinger from the thorn. 

"Ah, so I take it you truely are not enjoying the celebration?" He chimes sarcastically, folding one foot over the other, "Why not? Are you not excited by the Prince's return? Or perhaps, the food and wine is not up to your standards?"

The mention of wine brings the bile in my throat to burn and my stomach tenses with the threat to heave. I scowl and only fold my arms closer to my abdomen. The stranger only laughs.

"From that look, I take it the wine was to your standards," He scratches amongst his chin as if he was in thought, though, I still don't give the man a single glance as I glare into the bush and hope the gold of my crown will shine through, "So that just leaves, the food or the Prince – Hell, maybe both! You tell me."

I groan and throw my head back in annoyance. When the flash of irritation comes so does a bad idea and I glance to the man finally, although from this far down, I still cannot see his face, but I can make out his broad chest which he folds his toned arms across the pins among his tunic – Signifying he was some sort of importance to the Kingdom, the same pins that Ruby has perhaps? I'm not sure, my hazy gaze couldn't make them out as I then shifted to scowl at his hidden features. 

"It's none of your business why I have left the banquet," I say, "Maybe, I just wanted some fresh air?"

The next chuckle that replies is a soft, rolling thunder that billows across the dark skies and causes a rumble in my own chest, "Yes, I'm certain that is the reason why." He sarcastically adds, and just as I groan and turn back away, he crouches to his knees and plucks something out of the bushes near me.

Gold shimmers in my peripherals as he stands back up and twirls the crown around his single digit, I gasp and widen my eyes, standing from my place immediately as he continues to speak casually, "That must be why you stumbled into a pillar like a limp log and sent this crashing down – The lack of air, that is." He points out and just as the candlelight illuminates his face, it does the same to mine.

He saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it and a small smile played on his lips, whilst I heaved a sharp breath in and nearly toppled backwards in surprise. There was a delicious moment where my mind washed blank with intoxicated confusion, like my brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from my wide eyes.

_"You look well, Sister."_

Even in the bland darkness, he was as vivid as the painted blooms of his portrait which hung all around the Kingdom. What I once thought to be, dark brown hair, is so much more vibrant that the caged flames donned and shined upon each strand before me, starkly contrasting to the complexion of his chiseled face. 

I recognised him the moment that same, sly smirk rose to his lips when he recognised the falsity of my familiar features, flicking his tongue to wet his lips for a short second and then pointing to the drawn on birthmark beneath my eye.

"You've drawn it on wrong –" He tuts, rolling his eyes that shined a deep crimson against the flames, "It curves slightly to the right at the bottom. Maybe, I could help you with drawing it on every morning?"

My lips parted and trembled as much as my hands did by my sides. I curled them into tight fists and suddenly, my adrenaline had pushed away all signs of intoxication as it replaced the forefront of my mind, screaming for my legs to run away and avoid his confrontation.

I glance to the Princess' crown which he twirls with his finger and then to the one which sits above his hair, sinking into the strands as if it was embedded into his skull. I gulp, "P-Prince Dayvis." I bow, my cheeks turning hot and red in my embarrassment. 

When I straighten back up, I watch the way he cocks a smile and bows the same, raising his voice to mimic my stutters, "Oh! Princess." He greets, sarcasm evident in his high tone.

"I apologise for my previous attitude." I say, glancing once more to the crown and mustering another lie upon my mountain of them, "I had lost the crown and was worried that I wouldn't be able to find it in the dark."

My mouth is suddenly, incredibly dry and fear builds in the pit of my stomach, urging hand-to-hand combat with the nausea that has already found a home inside of me. I'm being pulled thin in all of this anxiety that my surroundings continue to swirl around me, but it isn't the intoxication that is the main cause of the false movement. 

Prince Dayvis huffs a small breath and hands it out to me, to which I go to reach for but he flinches it back like a child would snatch away a piece of cheap candy. He cocks his head to the side and indulges in the worried look upon my features, "Well, it was lucky of me to find it." He sighs casually, then shaking his head lightly to himself, "You do really look like her. Although, I must admit, you do look better spirited."

I furrow my brows and become taken aback. _Spirited?_ What does that even mean?

My hands still stay stiff in the air, my fingers sprawled out for the crown which he holds away.

"Ah, Ah, Ah." He tuts to me, waving a finger in my face as I try to take it from him, "Here, Princess, let me put it on you." He smiles, but the way his lips tug tightly causes a daunting horror to sit upon my chest in apprehension as he lifts the weighted gold above my head and sets it delicately upon my hair. 

My breathing is rapid in the cold air and causes tendrils of heated mist to form in the small space between the Prince and I. When he lets go of the crown, it sits upon my head as if it had never left, but small flickers of dirt from the bush fall into my hair and trickle down my face. His cold hands linger upon the gold and as my heart thrashes against my ribs, I tremble below his touch as he brushes his fingers along the flesh of my cheek, seemingly drawing away all speckles of dirt, but the way he then cups my face softly, tells me, he had left the dirt to stay. 

I know I must look how I should, dirty and hazy with the mess of my hair and stained clothes – A true girl from the slums, the place were she belongs and I am certain that is what the Prince is thinking about too when he flickers his brown eyes across my dirty features, to the crown and then back to my eyes. 

Prince Dayvis hums low below his breath and then breathes out through his nose, the heat of his breath hitting my face and causing a shiver to run across my spine in the tension that sits heavily around us as he begins to brush his thumb across the faint birthmark.

"You know, I never thought that my own Father could so easily replace my Sister." He whispers into my face, "And to think he found you and yet, found no grief for the loss of his real Daughter."

My words shake and fall limp in the air, "The King is only keeping me around until they find the Princess." I squeak, like a timid, slum girl would. 

He gives a single chuckle, rolling his eyes once and then moving his grip to my chin, holding it in his closed palm whilst he runs a finger over my dry lips, "Is that right?" He asks me rhetorically. 

Adrenaline floods my system, It pumps and beats like it's trying to escape every last bit of his touch. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide with fear. My body wants to either run fast away to the banquet or climb the gated fence and risk being gunned down on the flee to home, but instead, I remain where I am – Allowing him to explore my lips with his forefinger as I hush shaky breaths on the digit. 

"Well," He tuts, and with just a small pouting of the lips; A narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head, the left side of his faint, red lip tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk on his perfect features, casting a spell of horror to my eyes that didn't dare to look away as it then fell into a scorching scowl, "If he didn't morn her, lets just hope there's something in him that feels guilty for your loss instead."

My face scrunches in confusion and I mutter a small, "What?" But before the words even sit in the space between us, he flinches his grip away and I take a small step back. 

Then, all at once, his face morphed into a cruel stare which glared daggers into my soul, so sharp that it brought a prick of fear to my heart, but just as his teeth grit together and he retracts something from his belt, I realise there was something sharper to come. 

In one quick motion, he raises the knife from his belt and twists it in the air as he holds it above his head, the silver of the blade glimmering with the candlelights above and I swear that I can see the frightened features of my reflection beaming in the silver. He brings it up as if he could slice the tension as I shriek loudly and stumble away as he brings it down towards me, almost cutting the tip of my nose and chopping off a loose strand of hair, which swayed in-front of me as I backtracked. 

"What are you doing?!" I scream, tears already pooling in my hazy eyes. But he didn't answer, only made a devilish noise in the back of his throat and tried to corner me in against the pillar, bringing the knife back up.

His expression is exaggerated by the dark shadows around his eyes. I begin to scream, but I know I am too far away for anyone to hear my pleads of help over the music in the banquet hall. When my back thuds against the pillar, I almost knock all the wind out of chest. 

_Why was he doing this? Was it truely because he was so angry about the fact that I was forced to replace his Sister?_

To be honest, I always presumed my death to come by the King's hand or order, and maybe, Kylo Ren's power – But by a small dagger held by the Prince of Jorkhan, in the middle of the night of his banquet, which celebrates his return? I may have brushed that nightmare away as a fabricated illusion. 

I can feel the sweat drench my skin, the throbbing of my eyes, my own ringing screams vibrating in my ears, and the thumping of my heart against my chest. My fingers are curled around the pillar and I try to move around it but the Prince is too close that I fret he will slice me quicker if I tried to move. I can't hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs.

Fear tortures my guts, churning my stomach in tense cramps, bringing the nausea back to focus. Terror engulfs my conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside. It overwhelms my body, making it drastically exhausted. 

"Please, don't kill me." I beg, and all at once, the tears fall like a shower from the sky, "It wasn't my choice!"

The Prince clenches his jaw tightly, and tilts his head to the side, "You shouldn't be here. Your presence is death to the people." He snaps bitterly, spitting his last words into my face, "Look at you! You're nothing but the dirt of Jorkhan."

I nod frantically, begging and pleading over and over. 

"I know!" I cry, "I know!"

When the Prince is barely inches away and I have nowhere to go, other than the meeting of his blade to my heart, his voice comes much lower, whispering his last words before he raises the knife back into the air, "I'm sorry, but this has to be done."

He holds it to the light, a rich mahogany handle and curved blade. I don't close my eyes and await the stabbing, but rather watch the knife as it lingers above me threateningly. Everything is swaying around him, the same way the room swayed around Kylo Ren back in the hall, and all I can smell is the flower beds that surround the courtyard – Bringing a small sense of relief to my anxiety that has nowhere to escape to. The fresh scent reminds me of the orchards, the fruits, the servants and the stables, and as I take one last glance to the blade in Prince Dayvis' hands, I am contempt with my last thought being of Anwar only. 

Remembering the chaos, the synchrony, and struggle of my short life, all at once, I will use those happenstances and grow in their tortured soil that death may bring – Bloom a new life, but never cut the thorns in the name of purpose and destiny, for this is what my life had become in the matter of a short couple of weeks and yet, it may be the death of me too – But if the warm reminder of the light of my life, which was Anwar, is the last memory I recall, then this fear was worth it all.

That is, until Kylo Ren replaces Anwar.

Prince Dayvis follows my eyes and my expression betrays me as he too, turns around, ready to embed the knife into the intruder's chest, but the strong grip of the silhouette catches his forearm in one quick motion and punches away the blade with his leather hands. 

The knife scraped along the pavements and fell into the same bush which the crown upon my head had fallen into.

Kylo Ren stood there, blocking every punch that Prince Dayvis tried to throw, and when Kylo dodged the third, he finally curled his leather hand that wasn't holding onto the Prince, and knocked it right into his perfect jaw. 

The Prince stumbled back slightly, holding his hands out to balance himself as he nearly crashed against me, almost crushing me against the pillar before I slipped out of the way, leaving Kylo to then draw in on the Prince as he had done so to me.

My heart is beating incredibly fast and my breathing is coming in quick spurts as with my lunge away, I crash to my hands and knees as the world begins to spin too quickly for me to handle as so does the oxygen thin out. 

When I heave a large, uncontrolled breath inwards, Kylo glances to me quickly and the Prince takes this as an opportunity to glide closer to him instead and knock a large punch into his chest. Kylo twists with the impact and takes a couple of steps back to control the blow and when his footing stops, he meets the gaze of the Prince – Even in the darkness, the moonlight was enough to showcase the way Kylo's eyes darkened. 

All at once, Kylo reaches below his robes and retracts his own weapon, but this one was much more dangerous and he was better skilled to wield it. When the lightsaber is revealed, he takes no time to ignite it, glowing up the scene around us in a brilliant red as it hums low and flickers broken beams at the horizontal hilt. 

I gasp at the violent beauty of it all as Kylo held his weapon evenly in his grip as if it weighed nothing heavier than a feather. He eyed the weapon with hungry eyes, the eyes of a passionless executioner. Inches away from the Prince, who had yet to flinch, his blunt hands were steady as they lifted the saber higher, ready to strike Dayvis – The Prince only laughs, coughing up crimson from the punch to his jaw.

"Come to save your betrothed?" He spits blood and laughs sadistically, "Jorkhan doesn't want you here. Nobody wants either of you here! They need a new ruler, one who values the needs and lives of the people." The Prince flicks his gaze to the burning weapon that is ready to strike his flesh, and as I am watching with terrified eyes, the scene unfold, I wonder just how pathetic I looked, accepting my fate against the pillar.

_Was this his purpose of killing me? He wanted to be the King? I'm not even the real Princess! Couldn't he have awaited her return first?!_

Kylo keeps the saber over his shoulder, ready to strike as he too, chuckles and cocks his head to the side, in fake question, "Someone like you, I suppose?" His voice is deep velvet to my core. The tone to my saviour, believe it or not. 

When the Prince only leans in, Kylo scowls further and grips onto the handle of his saber tighter.

"Exactly." The Prince ends, eyes bright and a sly smile wearing thin upon his face. 

That simple word is enough for Kylo Ren to growl below his breath and strike, but much like he had interrupted the Prince's slice upon me, Ruby suddenly screams out to him before he embeds the burning saber into the Prince's heart.

Stopping just before tearing the skin, the heat the lightsaber possessed, almost burnt the skin of the Prince's neck off. My eyes blow wide and I can taste saliva thickening in my throat as beads of sweat trickle down my brow.

The red of his lightsaber, illuminates Ruby, who stumbles over, disheveled with a full bottle of wine in her right hand as he left reaches out as she yells, "Stop! You cannot kill him, he is the Prince of Jorkhan."

Kylo Ren doesn't make a move to look back at her, and neither does Dayvis' eyes leave Kylo's. 

Kylo seethes and pinches the saber closer to his neck at the smirk upon his face, taunting him, "He was trying to kill the Princess." He grits back to her. 

I'm left heaving and snapping my head between the two of them, watching the way she gives a tired sigh, as if she had somehow heard the same thing a thousand times before, "The King will deal with him – If you kill the Prince, I am certain the alliance will be torn apart between Jorkhan and The First Order. There will be no military allowance. There will be no union between the Princess and you."

I swallow roughly. A little part in my brain, lightens up with the idea and curses for him to thrust the lightsaber into the Prince's heart – But I somehow know that I still won't be returning home afterwards. But then, my eyebrows furrow as my knees dig into the pavement. _Military allowance?_ Was that the reason for the Princess' betrothal? In return for the funding of an army for The First Order – This alliance is crueler and more violent than I had thought. 

My eyes meet his, the fear ever present. For a suspended moment, he pauses, registering what had just happened, and when his glaring eyes meet mine, they soften – The brown clouding with something I cannot quite name. 

Suddenly, lightsaber retracts and I almost faint when the hot saber isn't prickling the tiny hairs on my flesh even from this far. Red subdues into darkness, leaving me bare and lonesome in the shadows as I watch the way he draws over and lets the Prince go – Ruby placing the wine bottle on the ground and then running to his aid. 

_I hate them both._

When Kylo drops to his knee before me, I almost fall limp to the ground completely. For a split second, the anger I held towards him was suspended and then shattered like glass all around me. 

I gaped openly as I observed his worried expression, a stark difference to the displeasure he often showcased. With perfect flesh, littered with as many freckles as there are stars in the sky, on either side of his prominent nose, were two blazing brown eyes, but right now, they weren't just the usual, dark brown I assumed them to be, but rather honey-like orbits that swirled brighter than those same stars. His dark brows were actually graceful, but currently furrowed in a frown. All of it was framed by thick, warm dark chocolate strands, that looked soft enough to run my trembling hands into, needing the comfort of long strands, that reminded me of the hair of Anwar, although his blonde locks looked rough and split.

My face is already soaked but I am still held on the brink of tears as he brings his gloved hand to my cheek and rubs it softer than the Prince had done before. 

Out of control, spinning into the mire of my own anxious thoughts, I leaned into the touch, needing as much aid as the Prince did, who leaned on Ruby as she limped him away, glancing back only once to meet the daggers of my eyes.

"Are you alright?" He breathed lowly to me, calmer than I had ever heard words soak from his tongue before.

His words were softer than the vanilla pudding served at the feast – The richness of his tones, luxurious and warm. I could drink up his words all day and night long, chug them like they are wine, so long as they are forever this caring, instead of the harsh sneers he often gives.

I turned to him, his black eyes drilling into mine and I couldn't help but think for this spilt second of hazy need, that I had never seen such dark eyes with so much light in them before.


	11. Getaway Stars

When Kylo Ren helps me up from my place on the cold, hard, stone path, leveraging me up by clasping his big, leather hands around my wrists and pulling me to my feet, the needle of my moral compass swayed madly in different directions.

The tiny prick in my heart, didn't wish to draw to him, like he was a magnet to my silver, but it still dialled over and allowed him to help me up with no harsh words or remarks that would follow. 

It's daunting, the way the night had unfolded below the two, beaming moons above, which brought a warm, milky glow in the dark sky, as if the sight of it could become a song in the eyes of anyone willing to raise their head upwards – But as I got to my feet, I only glared to them, cursing at the night, rather than bellowing my concoction of fear and anger to the only one who had saved me from it.

I'm still stumbling slightly and when Kylo redirects me properly, ensuring that I didn't topple back to the ground in my slight intoxication, the nausea that swirled in the pit of my stomach and tried to defend the previous fear, cramped tightly in a sudden guilt. 

As he lead me away, I felt as if my confliction was pulling my mind left and right, stretching me thin and twisting my guts. Sure, Kylo Ren is a horrible man and has many powers which could kill or hurt me, but the Prince of Jorkhan had just tried to pierce my heart with a blade no sharper than the knife beneath my pillow, _in what I assume to be, the attempts to gain the title of the future heir to Jorkhan_ – And Kylo was the one to stop him. 

A little, ignorant, voice in my head whispers to me that Kylo had only saved me to keep the alliance between The First Order and the Kingdom, but my heart swells so loudly and painfully in my chest that I shush that voice away. 

Just as Kylo Ren hooks his arm around my stained waist, I bend down to the ground, causing him to do the same with the furrow of those thick brows, and pick up the full wine bottle that Ruby had left lonesome.

When I swig the bottle to my lips, Kylo Ren doesn't stop me from doing so, and so he shouldn't; Tonight had been stressful enough, bitter or not, I needed this to stop the building anxiety which lingers in my chest, and I needed it to subdue the confliction as I allowed his big hand to stay curled around my side, bringing a certain warmth to my prickled skin which stuck to the dried stain of wine that had split against me, moments before I had begged for blood to not replace it. 

On the walk back to the quarters, I dwell in the apprehension of laying in bed with Kylo for another nightmare-filled night. I chug more mouthfuls of the grotesque wine, unbothered by the way some, trickles out of my mouth and seeps down my chin – Most likely staining beside the tear tracks of my cheeks, like little curses of a reminder of the night. 

As if it had become my new coping mechanism, the atmosphere charged around me as Kylo cradled my hip to his own, swaying with my wobbly movements as he lead me to his quarters that had become my own. Charging with an evanescent haze, the wine was the real cause, but the musk that exuded off his chest and the hand that gripped and softened at my side, seemed to be the true form of intoxication to my system. 

_What is happening to me?!_ My mind curses as my cheeks flush red. I knew all of these sudden emotions and sense of euphoria was just the wine gripping into my blood and taking over, but that didn't stop another wash of the tangy liquid from burning down my throat.

I felt like a flower, one resembling the last of the bushes as we climb slowly up the staircase, leaving the courtyards – Yes, a broken, struggling flower with thorns chopped off, and who had been fed too much alcohol, when indeed it craved water, but that couldn't nourish the twining cords that strangled the colour from the petals. 

But still, like any flower my petals turned to the light and currently and disturbingly, that had become Kylo Ren in the midst of my hazy world. Just as we reach the hardwood doors and he twists the golden handle to open it, I linger my gaze upon him in hopes that he doesn't notice the way my lips part towards him, in search for that cold demeanour which had seemed to thinly vanish into the air of tonight. 

Dark and thick hair, which sprawled around his pale features perfectly, even in the darkness of the foyer that he leads me into, it is still not enough to void his eyes from their brown glow. He is a clear head higher than most people I would consider tall, but somehow, he isn't lanky to become unattractive in his length, there's bulk on him too; Thick corded muscles beneath the mess of a black uniform – I can feel the hint of them in his arm around my back, which he eventually draws away, when he takes me into the bedroom, also taking the wine bottle from my hands and leaving to go into the lounge area – After I had flung myself onto the bed, ungraciously, and letting my crown fall uncaringly to the ground for the second time tonight. 

The room is spinning around me in my still movement as I stare to the material which laps over the four-postered bed-frame and when my stomach sways at the smell of wine that was stained into my dress, I push myself up before my eyes eventually droop and force myself to change in the bathroom that conjoined. 

Once in the unflattering night-wear that the Kingdom had provided, I trudge back into the bedroom and roll over Kylo's cold side, and onto my side of the bed, curling in on myself beneath the thick sheets that I cup to my clattering chin.

The room is dark with the night, but there is a small glow and breeze which swoops into the room via the opened balcony that laps all around the quarters, and as I stare down the stone opening, my mind lingers over every terrifying event that had happened in the past few moments, and become overwhelmed with how I had somehow made it out alive – But that wasn't my doing, it was all thanks to Kylo – Though, I know I am too stubborn to express my gratitude to the main cause that had brought me here in the first place.

Maybe, the Princess was even more intelligent than I had previously presumed. I thought her to be smart in fleeing before being wed to Kylo, but now, I wonder if her own Brother was also a main factor in escaping these high walls. 

How had she even done it? Is there a crook in the gate that I could wedge between? I must know. Maybe, she has a diary lying around, one that I can snoop into and find all the answers to my own, much needed, escape? – I laugh sloppily at my own imagination. Even if I did escape, where would I go? The King would need less time to find me than her, I only have one place I can hide – The slums. 

The stars outside glimmer in my ignorant hope and I think back to the words Anwar had spoken on the day of my departure, once more like I had every night before this terrible one. 

_"If I ever made enough money, I would leave this planet in a heartbeat."_

Gold shines all around me but taunts me never-less as Anwar's voice circles my mind like the imaginary birds that fly around my head in my drunk state. All this wealth had suddenly come into my grimy, undeserving hands, and yet, I cannot use it for what I really want. 

What's the point of all these expensive banquets, nice clothes, crowns and even rich wines, if I cannot be the person I really wish to be? What's the point of being bathed in riches, if I cannot use this wealth to do exactly what Anwar wishes? I've got a tower of gold, and yet the cage that surrounds, is what keeps me from leaving. 

My arms flap down on the mattress around me and I sigh before the tears build. My stomach begins to heave in a sickly way and my head is spinning in a way that just makes no sense. It's like the whole planet was being spun too fast, slow at first but gaining momentum – But then, all at once, when Kylo Ren stands in the bedroom doorway, the world slows around him and leaves me gravitated. 

I meet his gaze in the doorway, not with the shyness I usually carried, but with a blunt refusal to avert my gaze first as I took in the sight of his skin, gleaming beneath the moonlight that peaked through the net curtains that swayed in the breeze from outside. 

It was like all the crisp air in the room had dried thin and fragile in the silent tension as neither of us made a sound or an effort to move. And when I glanced down to his exposed chest, I sucked in a sharp breath.

Shocked wouldn't quite describe my state. I was gawking openly with my drooped lids, stunned and somewhat mesmerised by his physique that was no longer hidden by dark and thick fabrics. It was like nothing I've ever seen before and I think he noticed my surprise, for I wasn't only shocked by the strong core of muscle that was revealed, but rather every single impurity that was laced upon it – A splatter of small, barely visible scars that scattered his chest like the stars in the dark sky. Most of them had turned as silver as the knife beneath my pillow, but some cuts were still fresh. 

I swallow softly and advert my gaze as he breaks the silence with his deep, warm tone. 

"Are you okay?" He asks me calmly, and I could tell his mind was a surging perplexity when I turned my gaze back and furrowed my brows in question. The room sways for a short second in my quick movement but eventually it sinks back to gravity around him. 

I stutter for a moment, shaking my head but eventually coming out with a quiet, "Uh, yes. I am fine, thank you."

Kylo only nods at my words, but how odd to see those half-familiar features of cold devoid, now somewhat warm, like the heat in the brown eyes that linger upon my frame beneath the sheets, had burnt away the chill within – Maybe, it's the wine in my blood, that is making my mind hallucinate his sudden calm demeanour, but either way, this is much better than the usual looks he gives me. 

"Alright," He sighs, and I notice his broad shoulders droop and rise with every breath in the doorway, "Goodnight."

I sit up in the bed quickly, and he turns back around at my movement and I give him a puzzled look. Head tilted to the side. Furrowed brows. Creased forehead and uncertain lips that part in question, but don't necessarily wish to ask him what they eventually blurt, 

"You're not sleeping here?"

Something shifted beneath that hard exterior at my words and Kylo slumps back and tilts his head the same way I did. I sit in the middle of his bed, cradling the sheets to my chest and the tension is suddenly gone as if I had forgotten all that he had done. And though I hadn't, I knew deep down it wasn't the wine who was clouding my defences, it was my conscience who needed something, but I didn't exactly know what. 

Kylo Ren shakes his head in bewilderment and almost chuckles as he says, "No, I will be sleeping in the lounge – Unless you wish to swap?" 

I huff a small breath and ignore his sneer at the end, despite how much the wine in my stomach bubbled with laughter, "Why aren't you sleeping in here?"

He looks shocked for a short moment, but then his face falls into the look that is no different to that stare he usually gives me where I have to wonder if he is secretly plotting to kill me or admiring. 

"I thought you didn't wish to share the bed with me?" He says, "It's okay. Goodnight, Princess."

I knew what the reason was, before I had even asked my question and before he had even replied – My mind remembering the drunken words I had slurred to him in the banquet about sharing a bed with him. But now that he is standing there, bidding goodnight and retiring to the couch, I feel guilty for my harsh cracks and almost want to take them back – _No!_ That same, little voice in my head pleads and for a second, I have to remind myself that I am drunk and not in the right headspace to be inviting him back into the bed, where every-night he had sunk right behind me and wrapped those toned arms around my shaking frame; But that second, seemed to be a short one that doesn't mix well with the wine as he turns and I suddenly say, 

"Wait!" I call loudly to him, holding a pathetic hand out and then dropping it into my lap as his eyes met mine once more, "You can sleep in here."

Kylo shakes his head, his eyebrows never etching out of its crease, "But–"

I cut him off before the wine subdues and I regret my decision, "I want you to."

Kylo was half shadow, every muscle on his torso flowing from the light into the dark. He was a living work or art, his pale skin so tempting to touch, almost resembling the bare chest of Anwar, but with more muscle and broader. Every breath give away his strength as the muscles moved in his apprehension. His eyes were locked onto mine, almost waiting for the wine to backtrack my words as much as I did. 

And when he moves closer, the light completely illuminates his face as he mutters an acceptance to my peculiar invitation, but they came muffled to my ears as he withdrew the sheets on his lonesome side and I moved over to my own.

Laying back down and turning away, I bite my bottom lip to suppress my nervous breathing and my eyes locked onto the balcony once more, which even the cold breeze that flew through, couldn't withdraw the burning of the apples of my cheeks. 

He breathes a deep breath inwards and outwards, laying on his side of the mattress stiffly, leaving my body to slightly dip closer, but he makes no movement to cradle me to his chest as he turned to face my back.

I can feel his eyes burning into my skull, but I try to ignore the chills that rise among my burning flesh as I continue staring out to the dark blanket which contrasted with blacks and yellows, and the occasional white, where there are stars which dot the blanket in the intricate pattern of a galaxy which I will never be able to explore.

The two moons sit amongst the stars which resemble one thousand dreams, for they weaved themselves on that cosmic territory of divinity, that allowed my frightened nerves to calm beneath as Anwar's voice began to repeat in the back of my head over and over again.

Moments pass in my sad imagination of fleeing the castle and then this entire planet, but I know deep in my guts that Kylo is still as awake as I am – Possibly staring to the sky, remembering the frightening fight that he had so easily won against the Prince, or maybe he is tuning into the ache of my emotion that needs to find a way out of here, just as the original Princess had. 

I close my eyes shortly and sigh to myself, letting my tense limbs fall loose, as I become the first one to break the silence between Kylo and I, for the first time ever, "Can you sense my emotions all the time?" I ask the man behind me, softly.

He hums, signalling he's awake and I can feel him nod into his pillow as he then speaks as fragile in the air as I did, "Only if I tune into it – Or if what you are feeling inside, is so overwhelming to you, that it becomes a beacon to my senses... Which seems to be always."

I breathe a small laugh into my pillow and keep my gaze to the stars above as I begin what should be, an awkward starting of pillow-talk, but I don't particularly care for what could be deemed as anything as I click my tongue to the roof of my mouth and taste the remnants of tonight. 

The stars almost swirl before me and I don't hesitate to bask in their glory as I become vulnerable to the Apprentice who I had been betrothed to in the midst of lies and deceits. 

"I don't want to be here anymore." I admit sadly, and as soon as the words had come out of my mouth, I feel the weight of all my worries, lift off my shoulders for this short moment, until I feel them slowly tumble back down. 

He swallows roughly behind me, but that doesn't stop the raspiness of his voice, "What do you mean?"

The forgotten crown lays on the floor near the balcony, but I ignore the warnings in their red jewels as I continue, "I want to leave this Kingdom. I want to leave this planet."

"Have you never done either of those before?" 

He questions behind me, and I think back to the way I once, never lived in the Kingdom, but instead, _the dirt of Jorkhan,_ as Prince Dayvis had recalled before trying to slice me open with his dagger. My own sits beneath the pillow that my head rests above, but I make no movement to reach for it, like I had clamped my hands around it every night before this one – Trying to muster up enough courage to drive it into the heart of Kylo Ren, but now, there's a sense of unfairity to do that to the very one who had saved me.

Another lie couldn't hurt, "No, neither of them."

Suddenly, I feel him play with a strand of my hair, twirling it in his big hands that were no longer covered in thick, coarse leather. A shiver runs up my spine, but I don't tell him to stop as he mutters,

"Where would you go?"

The giddiness I felt from just the touch of his hands to my hair muzzled my higher thinking as the stars became even brighter. With my primitive brain in charge and the flood of endorphins urging me to reply before the silence draws to a close, I was swept away in the moments where the intoxication was beginning to bid farewell, but the regret of allowing him to stay, never greeted a welcoming.

"Any star will do." I reply.

This ease between us is something that I would have thought could be impossible to linger, but it never left as we laid in the bed beneath the same cover. There's a fragile silence that settles over us, once I had muttered my words, but after a couple of seconds, Kylo drops my hair to the pillow and promises me a dream that shoots up to the thousands in the sky.

"I'll take you to the stars one day, if that is what you truely wish."

A collision of shock and warmth, spread a tincture among the apprehension in my chest and cloud it with a sense of false hope – Although, I know that his promise could be as fabricated as my whole existence, I still cling onto the fragility of the words he whispered, knowing that if he ever did meet his promise, that I wouldn't be the Princess he takes anyway, but that didn't stop my face from softening and turning around to face him.

I snap my head up to him finally, meeting his gaze and my eyes grow wide at the beauty that glowed in the starry night's glow – Or now, the getaway stars.

There's an unreadable look in his eyes and his lips almost quiver just as much as mine did before him. I feel like the room is spinning and I can't control my own thoughts as I take a peek at those rosy lips once more, and I'm sure he can read my mind as clearly as my emotions beat into my heart, for it is pleading for them to touch my own.

There's no reason to blame the intoxication of wine to be the reasoning of these building desires, but maybe it was truely what my conscience needed as we stared at each-other in an odd way, as if it were a silent argument – Where my defences tried to rebuild themselves whilst my desire sent it crashing down. 

Our glances battled each other but we lay frozen, from both fear and excitement. Suddenly, Kylo leans in, just enough that our foreheads rest against each-other, leaving me to truely fall into my emotions that were too unbearable for just me to feel anymore.

I close my eyes, not knowing what to expect in my moment of fragile innocence, and slowly, I ignored my defences and closed the gap between our billowing breaths. 

Kylo also moves in with those eyes that look so deeply into my own, his breathing becoming softer and more vulnerable, the pensive look melting into something that I had never come across before, and then when he closes his eyes, I do the same as our lips touch softly.

His mouth feels like virgin silk upon my own, but I know they are anything but as he sinks his tongue into my mouth with experience and dominates my own. 

His lips dance with mine and I melt into the touch when he raises his warm hand to my tear-stained cheek, and gently pulls me in closer. 

All at once, my brain is electrified and sends bolts through my blood and alerts all of my emotions to take a break and indulge into his much needed touch. I don't know whether it is him who brings my heart to a erratic beat which pulsates my passion to my fingers that claw around his broad shoulders, or if it is just the lonely need that has missed the feeling of desire – But either way, he is fulfilling every need in my heart as his lips turn demanding.

As he somewhat sits up, never breaking the kiss and curling his other hand into my hair, I drag myself closer and almost sit into his toned lap as my breathing becomes erratic around his tongue. Only withdrawing my lips from his own for a large inhale of air, he moans into my mouth as soon as I return it and I whimper as he tugs my hair lightly, craning my neck back and moving with my own movements below.

Immediately, all of my worries and fears had been expelled and so did the memory of having a dagger to my chest, only hours ago. All I could think about was Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren and Kylo Ren, no matter how much that idea swirled confusingly in my mind amongst the midst of Anwar's words.

Every-time he held my face between his big hands it felt like he was untying all of my knots and now, my senses have been seduced for I can no longer think straight. When I straddle his hips, my night dress rides up and exposes my thighs that meet the mess of the curled sheets around us. 

Kylo begins to grind below me and I burst into a fit of more whimpers as I meet them with my own. I recall all of his harsh words, stares and brutal power, but as he moans loudly and twitches with every move of my hips, I only continue my pace sinfully, enjoying the way the brute of a cruel man succumbs to his burning desires. 

Surely, a Princess wouldn't be doing this – But he never stopped me. 

I break the kiss again for another, much needed breath and I rest my hands against the heavy rise and fall of his toned chest, which feels like it had been moulded from marble or stone. I lean in to taste him once more... Intoxicated on another flavour and scent, and Kylo leans in again too, but dodges my kiss. 

I feel a hot breath on my neck and then the tender brush of his lips, burning as they make contact with my skin. With hands running through my hair, and the kisses only becoming harder and more urgent, I grant him more access to my neck as my head swims. Now there is only one desire, one wish, and we both know it's just a matter of time before it happens. 

_Who had I become? What happened to the fake Princess who wanted nothing to do with Kylo Ren?_ Well, apparently that displeasure had flew right outside the opened balcony; As after he moves back to my mouth with touches of his own warm lips, my hands start to tingle at his sides as they etch towards the band of his pants – But he stops me with his own hands and shoves my touch away as he claws his own way to my tight undergarment, and simply moves the fabric to the side, to then swirl his soft fingers amongst the tender flesh of my outer delicates.

I gasp loudly into the air and suck a loud, brittle breath into my chest as I tremble at his mere touch. His mouth and face, suddenly pull away from my neck and his eyes resembled the stars beside us. Their light, a spark of euphoria and elation, as a small but teasing smile crept upon his face and goosebumps lined my torched skin.

I am a panting mess above him as he plays with the bundle of tender nerves, and when I become a moaning mess, his drunken smile only grows and the wetness of his lips becomes a beacon to my own, as I lean in to meet them once more but when his fingers leave, I throw my neck back in protest. 

When I meet his hazy gaze, I know my own matches his perfectly and then, he whispers slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savour them within the lack of space between us, "Good girl." 

My heart flutters at his deep, raspy voice as I clasp my hands on either side of his face, my left thumb, brushing the freckles upon the pale cheeks as then all of a sudden, he shoves two digits inside of my core completely. 

Throwing my hips up and clamping tense hands back onto his shoulders, I claw at the exposed skin as my insides craved more of his touch whilst he just began to move his fingers within me. 

As his hands move quicker and quicker, finding the spot he needed, my body has a transitory paralysis, my mind unable to process anything other than his touch and stare. In this very moment above him, I had lost all rational thought and I was solely consumed at the thought of only him and I, in this very moment; Ignoring everything in me that tried to hold onto the real idea of him – _The cruel Apprentice who tore down worlds with his bare hands._ But right now, he was tearing me to shrivelled shreds and letting me come undone before his very eyes.

The acceleration of my heart-rate has nothing to do with apprehension anymore, and everything to do with what my body really wants. His lips are so inviting, but I look away as if the night sky holds my true attention as I turn crimson beneath his stare, but after all this time he reads me like a book, eyes on my mouth as I gasp and moan, my breathing rate, duly noted.

With a gentle finger, he reorients my face so that he holds the gaze I didn't want to give him, stealing the passion from my eyes in a way that only magnifies the spark. There is no sly smile on his lips anymore, only the hot intensity in the colour of his eyes that I see my own reflection, swim within. 

At my breathy cries, his pace quickened and his other hand falls from my face and returns to my bundle of nerves once more, throwing me over the edge of passion. When his breathing became quick, I moaned once more and dug my fingernails deeply into his back.

When it was no longer my emotions, but simply, his touch that became suddenly overwhelming, the dots in my vision begin swaying, illuminating my world to completion, but it is his eyes that are the orbits of suns to my grounds. Those illuminations... Their glow, their shine, everything about them was beautiful, but around that smile that grew at my climax, they were nothing.

The rhapsody was beautiful, and when his fingers left me, his frame never did, only holding me tighter with the hand that was once inside of my core, and just when I think he is about to withdraw the hardened length that grew beneath the fabric of his pants below me, he only manoeuvres me to a cradled position in his arms as he lies me back down, facing him.

I move into his chest, like a moth drawn to warmth and as my lungs rise and fall with his own rhythmically, our bodies seem to bleed into one. 

He mutters small whisperings of soft words into my hair which he runs his long fingers through, but it comes muffled below the pounding of my heart as my eyes begin to droop slowly. 

For the first time, I allow him to hold me tightly in his toned arms as I fall into my slumbers and when sleep finally brings a void to my conscience, no nightmares come and take its place.


	12. Dismiss The Kiss

Royalty or not, I still awaken the same way a King would. My eyes greet the daylight with the soft flutter of groggy sight and my heart and lungs expand as I breathe a deep breath inwards, inhaling the scent of morning mist.

Sight still in the clutches of the night's glue, I hesitantly rubbed my eyes with closed fists and then basked in the warm sun that shined through the opened balcony. Its vivid light extended across a golden sky, seeming as if it was simply reflecting off the crown on the floor by my fallen arm that hangs off the side of the mattress.

Thoughts of the visions in sleep come and go in waves, clinging onto the very last memory of the night but with little success, and at first, I blink away the already-forgotten dreams from my mind, and then the sense of welcoming a new day for ever since I had been forced to place this role, the anticipation of whatever comes, is mundane in the fact that this life doesn't even feel like my own anymore.

When I eventually pull myself to my feet and head to the bathroom, my stomach swirls untamed in my body and I grimace with the unease that reminds me of all of last nights events.

At all of the hazy recollections, my heart beats fast and there is a buzzing in my brain, and all together they are as panicked as electricity in water as I then dip my toes into that same liquid that I had poured an unhealthy amount of potent bubbles into, in the wide-spread bath that sunk into the marble floors.

When the warm water greets my naked flesh, it isn't what shocked me out of the remaining clutches of slumber, but in fact it is the words that flood my mind as easily as the water and bubbles that now surround my shoulders, spread out and overflow the sides of the bath, rushing away and over the marble as if it was as sick at my choices as I was.

Too much wine. Kylo's hand on my thigh. Prince Dayvis. The Prince's knife aimed to my heart. Kylo Ren punching Dayvis away. Ruby screaming for him to not kill the royal. _Again, too much wine._ Kylo's warm eyes. Inviting him into bed. His fingers– _Stop!_

I clench my eyes tightly and swash at the water around me as if to swipe away the rest of the memories that arrive to my brain and prick at my already, crimson cheeks.

How could I have been so lenient? Sure, I was exceptionally intoxicated and then mixing that with the feeling of fright and the need to feel safe, I can see why I invited Kylo Ren back into his own bed, but why had I kissed him so easily and let him do those things without a whisper of displeasure by my own mistaken passion?

I can still feel the force of his soft lips pressed to my own and in my core, I almost remember perfectly, the way his fingers worked both gracefully and sinfully – And I had enjoyed every second of it. But now? _Gods –_ I just wanted to submerge underneath the hot water and become one with the bubbles forever, for I was drowning in regret and dismay at my own strength to stay away from the Apprentice.

I mean, he's not even my fiancé! He's the real Princess', and there I was, kissing him like he had been my lover for years – Kissing him the way I had imagined kissing Anwar one day, falling into the taste of his lips upon my own, but it was a different man entirely.

I scrape at my skin with the variety of soaps and washcloths, happy to finally be away from the swarm of servants, but almost wishing they were here to stop me from grazing the milky bars across my skin until the flesh was red and burning – Or until I washed away the disgusting feeling of regret that sat heavily above my stomach and rushed deep into my heart.

Hopping out of the water and wrapping a fluffy towel around my frame, I curse at myself inwardly when I realise the regret didn't sit with nauseating purposes at the idea of Kylo Ren, but more so at my own lack of refrain from falling into his grip last night – There was no doubt about the fact that Kylo was a good-looking man, with his gorgeous eyes, tall frame, strong build, wide shoulders, long hair, _big hands..._ But it was his personality that shunned me away. The darkness that swirled more aggressively in him than the regret did in I. The damage in the man who caused the same very things with those, _big,_ hands.

Only once I am dressed, my brain has drained completely like a squashed strawberry beneath a pickers boot; The exertions of the night being a marathon of erratic panic and fear. Thinking back to Anwar and his long nights out on the fields with a grotesque mimic of wine, I can tell I should be hungover, and I feel slightly off centre, but not from the bitter, horrible wine, but from the nightmares that demand solutions.

As I walked out onto the balcony, I figured I have two things to figure out as I stare across the Kingdom's landscape. One, why had I kissed Kylo Ren last night so passionately, and why does my lips form a somehow, burning touch of silk when I think of it? And Two, why had the Prince tried to kill me?

The second idea was much easier to figure out, as the Prince had claimed that he should be the rightful heir to the crown – And Kylo and the Princess' marriage would ruin his chances of that, even thought the King hasn't passed yet. But still, something about it felt off. There's something inside this nausea that is mundane below the acid, something that is curious to understand the bigger picture of a royal portrait, made of paint and maybe blood, forged on the corrupt side to the family that I now play a part in.

I sighed to myself, loosing my breath to the calm settlement of the suns, who both peered in the sky as if they do not leave their place every-night, welcoming the return of the toe-nail moons in their farewell.

This palace grew from the ground amid the grass and the meadow flowers, and up into the sky as if one day it sprung up from some precious seed.

The brilliant greens banished every worry in me momentarily as I admired all, from the wispy clouds above to the the trees that surrounded the grounds, etching inwards to a deep forest that gathered by nature's wand, which eventually bled out into cropped farms and orchards that were so tiny in this distance but from the flat sprung of yellow, I could tell it was the corn fields of the north of Jorkhan – Meaning, theoretically, the orchards and Anwar were behind me; But not in my grimy heart were they.

The landscape was the embodiment of boredom. It was as if the creator had run out of all colours all but yellow and blue after creating the forests that became the real gates around the north side of the palace. The distant golden waves of corn stretched in every direction to the horizon where it met the forget-me-not sky.

Deep with late summer foliage, the flowers rioted in the jubilant way that only the most divine of blooms can around the boarder of the courtyards to the right of the castle, the same type that I had been threatened by the Prince in last night. Tiny people walk among the pale stone now, so casually and boringly, as they did not know what had happened between the Prince and the supposed, Princess, amongst one of those pillars below.

"Good Morning, Princess." A deep and velvety voice purred from behind me, breaking me out of my drooping sight and morphing it into wide eyes and a stomach that twisted tightly.

I swallow the rise of acid that seeped from my innards and to my throat as I froze rigid along the balcony stone that I clenched my hands around so roughly, that my knuckles turned white as if the pale colour was a beacon to not throw myself over the edge.

"Morning." I croak to Kylo, who then glided to my side slowly, leaning his forearms on the balcony and peering out to the view, as if to find what had deemed my gaze worthy, but now only my peripherals were set upon him and all of his black robes.

_I thought he would be out today. Damn._

_I'm glad I chose to draw on the birthmark whilst getting dressed, now._

Upon his unexpected appearance, it seemed even the gentle breeze of the wind through delicate leaves had muted to a tense silence and the green upon them had turned almost as crimson as my cheeks had when my eyes fell to his hands, which curled around the barrier of the balcony loosely.

A timid quietness had settled over me and gripped tightly around my throat. My now, unsettled eyes, glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching his glance that turned upon my frame. I shifted uncomfortably against the balcony and tried to stretch the silence thin as I grasped my sweaty, nervous hands around the stone whilst shuffling my bare feet along the floor, awkwardly tracing the outlines of each cobble-stone with my toes beneath the length of my dress.

He cleared his throat and broke the silence shortly after.

"You are nervous," He points out the obvious, and I suddenly recall the way he had told me how he could always sense my feelings because they are so strong last night, before I kissed him and before... _Well–_ "Why is that, Princess?"

The landscape glowed orange under the burnt sky, as if it was warning me of what to come. His statement wasn't false, for I could feel the antsy clawing at my lungs, willing my body to go weak below his raspy tone. It didn't help that his voice also made my stomach do a flip and prickle my flesh warm, either. What was happening to me? Had he somehow used his force to will my desires into his direction? No, of course not. He promised he wouldn't do that to me – _Then again,_ he could've lied.

I glance away from his direction, focusing my gaze on the stables that were discreetly tucked into the far distance of the fields to my right. When I eventually speak, my voice comes out less powerful than his own, consisting of a subtle croak and an obvious stutter.

"I-I am not nervous." I say, "I was just enjoying the view... Until you came."

Here we are, back to basics. Harsh words to come, and maybe, even sharper glares if I find the courage to stare back to him – But neither of those come, for he only laughs softly as if he was dismissing my rudeness.

"I can tell by the way your heart beats so thunderously and the little brush of red below you ears, that you are nervous around my presence..." Kylo Ren chuckles, and when he points out my flaws, the crimson below my ears burns brighter and spreads all around. He continues, turning closer to my side, now coming back into the sight of my peripherals as I fight the urge to stare back at him.

"Could it be because of last night's events?"

He asks the question smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through my chest as I sucked in a sharp breath upon them. I could feel the heat growing in my cheeks. By now they must be beyond an attractive rosiness. They must be marking me out and basically urging him to sneer at the way I grew hot and strung just at the thoughts of my body intertwining around his own last night. I felt as if all my insecurities were writ large across my face and there was nowhere to hide, not even behind the expensive walls of the palace.

I cleared my throat before the silence answered for me, "I don't want to talk about last night's events." I shake my head and scowl away the tremble of my bottom lip, "As far as I am concerned, last night didn't happen, because I refuse to acknowledge it as it will never happen again."

Kylo slides closer to my side and chuckles some more, his strong and gloved hand picking at a loose strand that flared off the side of my dress along the seam that ran down my thigh. I flinched my leg away.

His laughter fell silent and his smirk convulsed into a deadpan of straight lips as I finally gave into the heavy stare of brown eyes,

"Which part of last night?" He asked me in a monotone voice, "The moments before your Brother tried to kill you or the moments after?"

I clenched my jaw tightly, trying to fight off every attack inside me that battled my defences to rubble, "All of it."

His eyes flicker over every feature upon my face and stop at the parting in my hair, noticing at the same time as I do, that I am not wearing the golden crown – My heart sways when I remember he prefers it off.

He hums low and I almost feel it rumble through my own chest too, before he speaks, "Ah..." He drawls slowly, as if he was absorbing what I said, instead of dismissing me like he usually did, "So, you're going to pretend that you didn't see the brightest stars in the Universe whilst you came undone around my touch?"

I squeak quickly and then flush even more. He saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it. A small smile played on his lips and I tried to save myself before he got any ideas.

"Precisely." I turned back to the horizon, ignoring the way my whole chest was caving in, wanting something that I would never let it indulge – But it seemed, Kylo Ren couldn't ignore the feeling that swayed unceremoniously in my system as I much as I tried to keep it at bay, away from his senses that I could never figure out.

"Well, tell that to your body then." He simply said, his tone a soft, rolling of thunder that billows, causing my knees to nearly give out with the way he said it so easily. I scoffed and shook my head, trying to act coy, although I was still hanging onto dear life around the balcony. If he calls me out again, I might just truely swing myself off to spare the embarrassment.

"What?" I gulp.

"Oh, come on, Princess." Kylo shakes his head slightly, the smirk returning to his rosy lips that I laid my own upon, only a few hours ago, "I don't need to sense your emotions to know clearly that you couldn't resist me last night, intoxicated or not, for even now, you are trying to will your body to fall to your mind's, ignorant and vigilant will-power."

A collision of shock and unwanted need, spread a tincture among the apprehension in my chest and cloud it with a hazy gaze upon him. There's an unreadable look in his eyes and his lips almost quiver just as much as mine did before him as he reaches the same hand that I had flinched off of my leg, up to my cheek. I feel like the balcony is spinning and I can't control my own thoughts as I take a peek at those rosy lips once more, whispering my next words although I had tried to scream them as I also tried swat his hand away, but my fingers only grip onto the lush silk of my long, day-dress.

"I am not ignorant nor vigilant."

Kylo Ren cocks his head to the side and sighs, "Not all of you."

I shake my head slowly, and his hand follows it, the leather never leaving my burning flesh. I finally pull all of the strength within me together, bundling them up to seem bigger and more resistant as I hesitantly reached my hand up to the wicked man's, hovering above the leather but never meeting it as I lowly said,

"Get off of me."

His brown eyes flick to my hand and then back to my wide eyes,

"Do you mean that, truely?" He asks, tutting at me like I am a child who doesn't know what piece of chocolate they want, "Or is that just your mind trying to fight away the lust that I can feel burn heavy in your soul?"

My chest caves completely, and so does my defences.

"I–"

It wasn't the soul in the man that made my body go weak, I suddenly realised. Oh no, I simply hated Kylo Ren to the core – But knowing what he could do to me, made every nerve in my body stand and point in his direction; It also didn't help that he was the most attractive man I had ever come across in my short lifetime. The raven haired man, with harsh but soft eyes, prominent features and a way with his strong words, was nothing Jorkhan could grow or produce from it's soil. No, Kylo Ren was something completely, out of this galaxy. A man who held all of the power of the Universe and yet, he made it still crumble to his feet.

I trembled at his touch as my hand fell limp to the balcony behind me as I turned close to his heavy gaze, swallowing roughly when his gloved hand falls to my exposed neck, the long fingers curling delicately around. He was torturing me as he looked to the veins below his grip, watching the way I breathed heavily beneath it as he whispered,

"Don't lie to me, Princess."

The low rumble of his voice is comforting as it wraps around my heart of passion as softly as his hand was around my neck in warning, and it carries me off to a world where his sound is the power that could change everything wrong in the world, and yet, he was the leader of all the wrong in the entire Universe.

I whimper. It wasn't the the richness of his tones that got to me though, no matter how luxurious and warm he spoke, it was what he said entirely. His words were like the chocolate from my favourite confectionary store, sweet in their ordinary sort of way, and all at once, I only thought of the word, _'Princess,'_ to be a pet name that he only used for me, no longer a title that bared the weight upon my shoulders that spun out of control off of me as I leaned closer to his hand, needing to feel the way his grip tensed around my airways.

"That's a good girl."

It was like I was a leaking tap all along, but just by his next phrase, I was sprung loose and flooded every thought out of my system. When he leaned in close, I nearly puckered my lips to meet his own, but instead turned my face away before he could place those sinful lips to mine, causing them to instead redirect to that tender flesh of crimson below my ear.

His lips burned more than my own blood ever could. A good kind of burning. A sensation I think I may always have to welcome for I become a whimpering mess at the feel of his silky lips and tongue, swirling and causing purple patches to form along the flesh of my neck. 

Suddenly, my hands had the ability to work, as they rose quickly and clutched at his strong shoulders. I dug and ground my fingernails into the cloak along his back and a little voice in the back of my head cursed for all of his clothes to be removed – Who was I becoming? Surely, not the slum girl I am meant to be, and most definitely not a Princess.

Wearing a long, white trailing gown, I leaned against the balcony, quivering when he blew a hot breath onto my tender skin, mixing gracefully with the misty, morning air. His hands then began to fall and then ride up the silk of my dress, exposing a bare thigh to the suns above but that wasn't what burnt the flesh, it was his honey gaze upon it instead.

When my hands tugged his face back into the crook of my neck, he growled and then moved his other hand to the v-line of the white silk, pulling it down to expose the upper-bust of my chest as he began to trail his tongue across my collarbone. 

I don't know what came across me when I moaned his name loudly upon the balcony.

"Kylo!"

It only urged him more and suddenly, I felt his hardened member press to my naked thigh. Even through all of the heavy fabric he wore, I could still tell how large he truely was beneath them.

Running my hands through his soft locks, Kylo only pulled my dress down further, brushing the thin straps off my shoulders and letting the rest of it fall to my waist.

He remains eye contact until those eyes travel from my face to my collar bone, delicate in the sunshine, then to my exposed breasts. Without the soft silk, they sit more natural, less close together and more moulded to my form. His eyes don't linger for too long, just enough for me to understand the cherish in his eyes – For his hands could tell me the rest as they return back to the flesh, kneading along the prickled nipples with leather thumbs and forefingers.

One inhale of his musky scent and I want the rest of his clothes on the floor too, not even caring for the people in the courtyards below for they couldn't see past the bright sun-rays, even if they did look high enough up. His other hand still lingers by my thigh. I couldn't move even if I tried, it was like his fingers have short circuited my mind in the best possible way as I opened my legs whilst standing, but then, all at once he picks me up with only one hand, cradling me to his waist as he leans my rear to the edge of the balcony. 

I gasp slightly and turn to look at the far drop below, but in these leather hands, I care not if I fall in this foggy state of adrenaline. His hand remains on the small of my back, keeping me from swaying off the side as I grip onto the stone also, when he replaces his fingers for his mouth upon my breast.

His tongue flicks and swirls, so warm and soft that I wonder how a tongue this perfect could produce such cruel words so often, but that's not what carried across my face that flung back with my neck. With shut eyes, the suns still beamed through the lids and my mouth fell agape as I moaned breaths to the sky, a small glimmer of sweat forming all over me. 

Wobbly, I let go of the stone barrier that I sat upon, and gripped onto the back of his head, forcing it closer to my chest as if I wanted him to kiss my heart instead. He chuckles to the skin and it rumbles in the storm of my desire, humming a tune with my elation. It's low and soft but powerful enough to send chills throughout my body, closely meeting the nerves at my core, deep inside.

But then, he withdraws from my chest, leaving my fingers to curl into his hair as he looks to me for a short moment, in in the stares, we seemed to have a silent conversation, although I think we were both saying different things, for then, he smirks and tries to lean in for a kiss, but I turn away once more, leaving him to peck the corner of my lips before falling to his knees before me. 

With his head nearing the inside of my opened legs, and his right hand peeling down my undergarments, I shudder at the air that meets my delicates but the breath that fans it, warms me up to the point of boiling, but I don't feel anything other than need as I feel my back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. 

But it isn't is fingers that greet my core. It is those sinful lips once more. 

Groaning and staggering my wild eyes upon him. The sound I make is a gaggle between a moan and a whimper, for I couldn't verbalise anything but the strangled sound that erupted up my throat as I pulled at his hair but begged his lips to stay.

I arch my back to the new feeling and whine loudly. When a slithering tongue meets my openness, the two suns double into four and glow brighter than they have ever before.

"Kylo!" I pant once more and he only moans a sound of approval.

My legs shook around his head and I leaned my knees over his shoulders as his big hands kept me in place by my thighs, I sway slightly when one leaves though, only to lose all gravity it seems when, at my breathy cries, his tongue quickened along my bundle of nerves and his long, leather fingers returned to my entrance. 

The leather felt coarse and rough, but my core welcomed the two fingers gratefully when he prodded them inside and curled them upon my inner walls. My neck was aching from arching it down to watch the Apprentice between my legs, but I didn't pay it much attention behind this overwhelming bliss. 

Throwing me over the edge of passion and to something much more extreme in his pleasuring mouth, when his breathing became quick against my core, I moaned once more and dug my fingernails into his scalp and the stone, simultaneously.

Suddenly, the rhapsody builds urgently within me and tightens the muscles of my abdomen warmly. His fingers leave me, but the farewell never lingers for his tongue takes their place.

When I climax from his tongue that still plays even as I do so, my eyes roll to the back of my head and I call for his name once more, ignoring the way it tastes better along my tongue, than any piece of chocolate Anwar could give to me in the grass fields of the orchards. 

Enchanted and satisfied with his job, Kylo Ren wipes his mouth as if he had just finished a wondrous feast and holds me in place as he returns back to his feet. He kisses my neck and my mind swirls in a hazy state of ecstasy, and I await the regret to flood once more but it never does as all I can feel is his clothed member against the inside of my thigh. After just a few more delicate touches of his warm lips, I swallow down all of the nerves that build and swipe away the warning signs in my own mind as I cup him lightly.

He immediately bucks. As if he as incapable of refraining from my touch as I am with him.

My legs are trembling and so is my hand which circles around the outline of his length, that throbs through his pants as he sighs into my ear. 

I somehow managed to scoot closer and ignored the way my other hand trembled when I reached for the waistband of his pants. My eyes lingered upon the pale flesh of his abdomen as I worked the buttons and zips, melting and forcing my mind to focus only on the feeling of his left hand sliding slowly along my collar bones beside his face that buried into the crook of my neck.

Tracing patterns along my bones, I tentatively bite my bottom lip when his length sprung free, feeling somewhat brazen at the sight. He sighed and leaned in closer, opening his mouth and nibbling on my flesh as I withheld a gasp at the member which was almost rock hard and pink along the sides of veins.

This was about as far as I had ever gone. Intense and steamy kisses were something that had once left me breathless and full of lust in the midst of growing up awkwardly, adding the simple touches to my privates – But I had never returned the favour to a grown man, let alone a powerful one. 

Too afraid to dive in head first, everything in me craved him, all of him, and the temptation to tear his clothes off and let him have all of me was overwhelming. But it was new, everything was brand new and gulped as I hesitantly wrapped my hands around him instead. 

His hands moved slowly up and down my back as he sucked a breath in at my neck. I tightened my grip slightly and my cheeks flushed as I began to move upwards along the length, unsure of my movements until he began to moan.

"That feels so good, Princess" He praised, and now, I most definitely feel as if the title is a pet-name. 

Confidence soaring, I rocked my hand harder and faster as I stared at his crotch unabashedly, curious beyond belief, lust dripping from my tongue as my lips parted towards it. As I began leaning forward unconsciously, Kylo only leaned his head back unwillingly, making an assortment of desperate sounds and squeezing my hips tightly. Sweet heat returning between my legs, my spine stiffened, blood rushing through my veins as I rode on the confidence of his moans, circling my thumb along his tip.

Then, he groaned loudly and moved a hand to cover mine, and he assisted in slowly moving mine up and down his length, "Good girl," He praised again, "Just like that."

I swallowed the saliva in my mouth as I become adorned as I glanced to the vulnerable look upon his face. Eyes tightly shut, neck exposing the tendrils of delicate, blue veins, sweat beading down his forehead and his lips turning red as his chin fell, he continued to keep his leather hand around my own, but I was the one now doing all the movements.

"Fuck, don't stop," He gasped, flinging his eyes open and watching my hand move before finding my eyes, but they only rolled back into his head as I picked up the pace, with a gentle squeeze here and there.

Now, my mouth needed him next, and I inched closer, moving my hand now as fast as possible as my breath was hot against his pale skin. I sucked along the sharp line of his jaw, but never met his lips, as much as I knew that is what he truely wanted – But that is something I will never give. This was lust and passion. A kiss, _I have found_ , is something so delicate and sacred, that I must save it for those who deserve it from now on.

Kylo Ren whined and twitched, his eyes scrunched shut. Faster and faster, somehow, my hand moved along him, my palm feeling sticky to the outlines of veins as I swiped over the tip to then only return to the base.

When I withdrew my mouth from his jaw, his eyes opened again to find my own, begging with blown pupils, but all at once, he let go, releasing his pleasure with his mouth agape and his eyes closed again. The warmth spilled down and around my hand as I slowed my movements, bliss soaking into my palm and and taking hold of my finger bones beneath the skin. When it was over, he sighed and let his strong shoulders droop whilst gasping for air and unable to move from the opening of my thighs.

When his gaze upon me became too much to handle, I looked away as he tucked himself back into his pants, then pulling the strands of my dress back over my shoulders, but leaving my undergarments lonesome on the pavement floor. 

I heard a near-silent chuckle from above, but it was his finger that reorientated my gaze. His other hand came behind the small of my back, and he pressed back into me, earning a tired whimper once more. The heat of his body made my breath short, but his words held more power.

"Kiss me."

I could melt to his touch, but the request flickered embers out of the raging desire that he ignited.

Mouth suddenly dry, but my body never letting go of the elation he had caused, my answer was simple and stronger than my resistance could ever be, and when I had finally uttered them, it didn't take long for him to sigh and leave me lonesome, sitting on the edge of the balcony, overlooking the Kingdom that I truely, do not own, 

_"No."_


	13. Money And Power

"I don't understand. Why would anyone need three different types of forks and spoons for just one dish?"

I observed the fork in her hand with questioning eyes which then, glance to the multiples by my empty plate. The golden handle bringing a welcoming touch of coolness to my grazing fingertip after the heat of the day.

"Each form of cutlery is used for a different form of dish." Ruby sighs from the other end of the table, rolling her eyes as she also picks up a silky form of material and folds it over her lap,"You would know that already by now, if you were listening to anything I said – Anyway, I'm talking about the table cloths now and how to properly fold your napkin."

I blow to myself quietly and ignore her new lesson as I begin to run my fingernail along the cold spoons now instead.

Like everything else in this grand castle, the spoon was expensive in its weight and shiny to the lights. The table spoon had an opening foliage at the blunt end, delicately fashioned in the gold, then after a slender stalk it opened out to a regular roundness that brought nothing but the reflection of the table's centrepiece of petals to my wandering daydream that muffled the rest of Ruby's words.

I plucked it from the left end of the smaller two, holding it to my sight and blocking away the ginger girl at the other end of the rectangle, oakwood table.

Upon the back of the gold, my reflection was utterly perfect in clarity, my hair limp by my face without a gentle breeze. The tiny flicker of a birthmark that was etched beneath those eyes of hidden melancholy. The crown above my head, even matched the simple spoon perfectly. But when I flipped it around, my reflection became all distorted and upside-down in the concave – As if, upon further inspection, even the spoon realised I wasn't who I tried to make myself be.

I let it drop to the empty table, which was full of emptier plates and cutlery. The sound of the gold, rattles on the oakwood and dings against the side of my empty plate before me as I lean my elbow by it and rest my cheek in my hands.

Ruby jumps at the startling sound of my dropped boredom but when she takes sight of the shaking spoon, her eyes harden upon the gold and then on me too.

I speak before her scolds can even form, "I'm bored of this, Ruby. Why must I even learn any of this? I'm not going to need it unless anyone is sober enough to notice, which by the looks of the Kingdom, nobody is ever sober at the banquets."

Ruby only scowls at my disinterest. Shaking her head to herself lightly as she speaks in a potent voice, "Because if someone sees you use the wrong fork for your salad, who's to say that they won't then connect the dots and notice that you are an imposter?"

She picks up the plate that sat empty in front of her casually, huffing a breath onto the dish and then wiping at it with the napkin in her hand. I roll my eyes and slump in my chair with a loud sigh, ignoring the way my crown slightly falls to the left upon my head. I begin to twirl the shiny spoon upon the table again, watching the way my reflection sways in the gold.

"If you don't hurry up and find the real Princess soon, I'm sure some will find suspicions soon." I mumble tiredly, "Either that, or the Prince will surely kill me before anyone has the chance to realise."

A loud clatter erupts the small hall that we sit in. China and gold crashing and dinging on the surface, as the plate in Ruby's hand falls the short drop back onto the table. I glance up to her and etch my forehead together in question, as the plate she polished with her napkin, falls before her as she scrunches the silk into her tight fist, which she then leans her forehead on as if she was frustrated.

Her voice comes slow and worn out, as if she had repeated the words she next spoke, a thousand times before, 

"The Prince is mentally unfit and physically atrocious," She says with a bored tone, blowing a loose strand of her perfect, ginger hair, away from her pale eyes which then latch onto me, "I know it must have been frightening when he pulled the dagger on you, but it's not something that I haven't seen before."

Anger boiled deep in my system, making my stomach feel as painfully empty as all of the plates on the small table we sit at. It churned within, hungry for destruction, and I know it's too much for me to handle. The pressure of this raging sea of anger would force me to say things I do not mean, or to express thoughts I've suppressed for days.

I clench my hands into tight fists and the spoon in my hands, digs into my palms, threatening a blunt cut in the flesh.

"You mean to tell me he is always that vicious?" I barely grit through my teeth.

The ginger girl only nods, 

"Ever since he was a boy, yes." She says, rolling her eyes and sighing. "He's always gotten himself into trouble, whether that be harmless trouble or not-so-harmless."

Not so harmless. _Like attempting to stab me to death?_

How dare she act so casual about Prince Dayvis' behaviour? Where I am from, if I even looked like I was going to shove a mere plum into my dress-pocket, I would be whipped and scolded in punishment by someone lesser than her own authority.

_And him?_ He can try and kill someone but only get a simple eye roll in return?

Fires of fury and hatred were smouldering in my small narrowed eyes as I weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to me for exacting revenge. Really, there's nothing I can do – I am just a peasant girl with no actual rights; But I was born with a voice and opinion, and right now, in my burning anger, that's all I needed as I spat, 

"Then, why didn't you just let Kylo Ren finish him off, if he is so sinister?" I question brutally, with no remorse for my meaning as I remember the way my frightful eyes reflected in the silver of his dagger – Just as my eyes burn red in the reflection of my golden spoon.

"How could you just act like what he did that night, is okay? How can you act like whatever else he has done is okay?" I slam the utensil back onto the table, beside my plate and the cup of the spoon forms an indentation across my fingers as I do so. 

Ruby looks taken aback, but her expression only morphs into one of offence. Flinching her head back and raising her eyebrows in disbelief of my outburst. She cocks her head to the side and flicks out her tongue to the corner of her mouth, clicking it and scoffing. 

"Because he is the Prince of Jorkhan." Ruby tuts, her eyes turning dark and serious as she keeps her gaze upon me, whilst also folding her napkin across her empty plate. "You cannot kill a Prince."

I mimic her expression, moving to the backing of my chair and folding my arms across my chest, 

"But he was going to kill the Princess, and the last time I recalled, she is the first in line for the throne, not him." I protest, but she only gives me a subtle chuckle and the roll of her blue eyes, which, to be honest, I hardly see because she is always etching them to the back of her head, it seems.

"Maybe so, but the last time I recalled, you are actually not royalty." She snapped, forgetting about the neatly folded napkin in her hands and instead, throwing it to the plate, "Right now, all the Prince did wrong, was pull out a knife on a commoner."

_A commoner._

I huff a breathy laugh and shake my head. A commoner, she said – Although, I knew she thought of me as less. I am nothing to her, I have always known this since arrival. She didn't care about me, she only cared for the real Princess – Just like Prince Dayvis did. 

Maybe, she hated me as much as he did too. Maybe... Some twisted part of her sneery esteem, wished that the Prince had killed me, all those nights ago at the banquet. 

I speak slowly and quieter, biting on my words before swallowing them down, only for them to erupt back out and stand into the space between our chairs, 

"So..." I drawled, "If Kylo Ren wasn't there to save me, you would have let the Prince kill me?"

My phrase causes a heavy tension to settle among the gold, almost rusting it with the apprehension as she goes quiet whilst the question circles her mind. I can tell she's deeply thinking upon it, and I don't know which is worse: Her knowing deep down the truth. Or her having to consider it. 

Shaking her head side-to-side, she swipes the tension in the air with a hand, almost brushing me off as she groans and says, 

"I do not know what I would have done. Perhaps, I would have let him gut you, for all we would need to do is find another girl that looks similar, and maybe we could have picked one who at least, has manners and can execute this task without hesitations." She points to my splatter of utensils only to then raise it to my crooked crown, which I fix immediately, but then she lowers her hands and sighs in defeat. Her shoulders dropping as she says, "– But upon reflection, I know you are too much of a spitting image to lose."

A spitting image. That's all I'll ever be. 

_No! I am more than that!_

I wasn't born to just replicate the Princess, surely? 

I shake my head and scowl,

"I think you must have too much false-pride upon your chest that needs to shine as much as your pathetic pins do," I say bitterly, "I do not care who I look like, and neither should you. I am a human being, not something that you can parade around until you find the real Princess."

All at once, upon the mention of her best-friend, her face twists and her eyes burn with a sudden fury. Her words pack a powerful punch, but I had seen and heard worse before.

"Why do you act like you hate it here and why do you always find something to complain about?" She snaps venomously, leaning on her elbows across the table – Something she told me, one should never do. 

Flicking her hand all around the room, her eyes go wild and so does her hair as small frizz begins to fall out of her tight braid as if she was burning up on the inside so much that her fiery hair, even needed an escape as the anger bursted off her sly tongue, 

"You eat off of golden plates! You wear the finest dresses made by the most famous hands! You have more riches than your dirty, little fingernails could ever work for... And yet, you still want to leave this grand place and go back to the terrorising streets – Why?"

_Terrorising streets?_ My home, she means.

How dare she! 

Ruby sits upon the wide-spread table, with her silk clothes and rich fineries, and she has the audacity, to belittle me? Sure, I came from nothing and I truely own nothing, but at least I was somewhat happy with what little I had – Unlike some of the pretentious people in this castle, who can only find happiness if their own reflection can fake a smile in the polished gold or silvers.

I glance to my hands momentarily, noticing the way the nature's fruit doesn't stain my palms and dirt isn't embedded beneath my nails. _Dirty, little fingernails._ Maybe, they were; But that is who I was meant to be. A dirty girl from the slums, who found more happiness with an empty stomach than an overfilled one. 

The anger from my eyes showed the scared child within, the girl who was taught to fight and starved of the love she craved. I knew Ruby could see the pain beneath the fury and my soul drowning in this persona she'd carved to fit into this golden world. 

My voice is as little as I feel at this big table, before her eyes, 

"Because this isn't a home, it's a castle made on war grounds with high gates that hide the poverty," I speak, fighting the urge to just flip the table onto her and cry. "I want to go back to my home, somewhere where I can smell sweet fruit rather than the metallic smell of overshared riches. Somewhere, where I am with the people that love me, rather than those who do not care if I live or die."

I tried to give my point across, in constant vulnerability as my fingernails dug into the oakwood but my chin trembled uncontrollably – But like always, Ruby proved that she really didn't care for me, as she only shrugs my words out of the balcony and tuts whilst wiping a long finger upon the grime that she tried to rub off her plate earlier. 

My walls build up once again, the moment her eyes meet mine. 

"Disgusting." She simply and rudely deadpans, "Those places are filled with savagery and wretched needs. The people do not care about love in those burrows. They only care for their next meal, constantly searching and rioting–"

White knuckles from clenching my fists too hard and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, my boiling form exuded an animosity that was like acid, burning, slicing, potent as every word she spoke only added treacherously to my building wrath. I could sense that my face was red with suppressed rage, and in the middle of her sentence, I cut her off as I mentally snapped. 

I stand from my chair abruptly, forcing the wooden legs to scrape along the floor loudly. I feel the tension and hear the intensity in my beating heart. There's a great deal of emotion behind those words she spoke, and they are all laced with hatred for those who are less fortunate than her – People like me!

Just as I began to lean across the table with an outstretched hand, heading to her pale cheek, instead of avoiding the nearing disaster to unfold, I simply gritted my teeth onto my bottom lip and swung quickly, glaring into her eyes for a destination. 

Time almost slowed in my rage, and in the frozen stand off, I notice her fearful eyes flick from me to behind my frame, as she just begins to curl her body inwards and raise her hands in this drawn out space, slowly. 

I heard the footsteps clearly, just before my hand made contact with her flesh and just when my fingertips grazed the freckles upon the white, my hand withdrew in the air and slapped my side forcefully, against its will. 

My eyes flew wider than Ruby's as I turned my head to see who belonged to the heavy, creeping footsteps and I choked on my own anger at the sight of deep, brown eyes.

Time immediately flings back to normal, as if it was a stretched out elastic-band which had been pulled too far, only to snap back into place in the blink of an eye. I almost feel the pinch of the elastic hit my heart as I swallowed before his questioning eyes as he assessed the scene before him. 

"What were you two doing?" Kylo Ren, casually says with his deep tone and hallow eyes. 

I turn back to Ruby slowly, dragging my tongue over my teeth and cocking an eyebrow. 

"We were just having lunch," I spit to her, ignoring how empty and spotless our plates, truely were in my little lie, "But Ruby's leaving now – Aren't you?"

Her eyes are frightened for a second longer, before she straightens her shoulders tensely and stiffens in her seat, glaring secretly into the pupils of my eyes. Folding her hands into each-other, I watch them twine onto each finger, as if she was trying to pull herself together as she breaks eye contact to look at the dark Apprentice.

She fakes a smile, one that I have seen her forge many times before as she tilts her head to the side and stands, brushing metaphorical crumbs off her dress from a fabricated lunch of horrors,

"Yes, I was." She nods, turning to me and twisting her mouth into a tight line, just before she bows and scurries away. "Goodbye, _Princess._ "

Glaring at her empty seat and seething in the silence. Tears began to weld, but it seemed the warmth of his golden eyes were enough to dry them right up – Reminding me that I cannot let him know what is wrong. Ruby may think that me using the wrong tool of cutlery will be my downfall, but if Kylo Ren finds out that I am not his true betrothed, I will certainly die by either his rough hands or the King's. 

In my peripheral's, I watched his black, cloaked form, nonchalantly pull out a chair, causing it to cry along the surface, quieter than it did when I kicked my own chair away, which he outstretched a hand to, and with the flick of a wrist, tucked it behind me, inviting me to sit before him. 

I swallowed the anger, and it sunk like acid down my throat and circled my stomach as if it was a fire-seed that would grow when necessary. 

Closing my eyes for a split second, I sighed quietly beneath my breath and sunk into the chair he had used his power to move. I clung onto the remaining cushion around me, when he used two, gloved fingers to tuck me into the table – Closer to his eyes that I met and turned crimson beneath, timidly. 

I try to ignore the way my gaze broke to his fingers that curled into his palm, remembering the way they did that inside of me, the same way, only it was flesh rather than leather. 

In the awkward tension, I bite the sore on the inside of my right cheek, which has become torn and metallic with how much I have resorted to biting it to shreds in moments such as these.

With that deep, rumble of a voice he owns, he breaks the sharp silence with his blunt tone,

"Where do you wish to find love?" He cocks his head to the side and lowers his thick eyebrows upon me, as if he was narrowing his pupil's to search through my mind.

"W-What?" I stuttered, refusing to look into his eyes and instead, plucking the golden spoon up, once again, acting as if I was too invested in my reflection than his words that I fretted. 

Kylo Ren shook his head slowly and glanced onwards, out of the balcony, breathing in the afternoon, blissful air as the sun's began to farewell their presence in the sky.

I took his withdrawn eyes as a chance to glance back to him and absorb his appearance. 

Dark hair that softly swayed in long strands which ended just below the nape of his thick neck, the raven, black strands seemed soft to the touch in the sunset that glowed around his strong and defined features of pure porcelain, warming the flesh up slightly. 

My mouth parted unwillingly upon him, as if I was becoming flooded with the recollection of what he could do to me – But something in my pit of anger, refused to allow my attraction to him, to be anything but physical, because truely, _that's all it was._

His strong physicality drew me in like a magnetic field, clinging onto me like he had a vice-like grip on my mind, but when he eventually spoke out, this twisted reality began to distort around him, challenging the mundane facts of my existence and bringing me into a new turbulent realm, where I became shocked at my own, sexual longing... _What had he done to me?_

"I overheard you, before I made myself known." He hummed, turning back to me and flicking his eyes down my features that turned away, "You said that you wish to be somewhere where you will be with people that love you – Where is that?"

_Oh, no. How much had he heard?_

Suddenly, I am sent spiralling all again. Flashes of my home. The slums. The orchards. Anwar. They all come upon me, hitting my heart and flesh like little stones that smack with the force of boulders.

My chest caves in.

"Oh, I–" I try to shake the thoughts away and instead forge a lie, but all at once, my shoulders heave in and I find a lack of strength in me as it all stretches out to the memory of somewhere I long to be. Somewhere, far from here.

But even the orchard's or Anwar's arms, will never be far enough from the sinister Kingdom. And even if we did flee Jorkhan, The First Order will soon rule the entire galaxy. There is no escaping either of them and the very person before me was the main contributor to my, unknown battle.

My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips at least, five times before I suddenly say, 

"Kylo?" 

When I meet his eyes, the surroundings seem to blur around him as he hums below his breath and nods for me to continue.

Swallowing in my sand-paper mouth, I narrow my eyes and shake my head in thought, "Why does The First Order wish to have Jorkhan in their monarchy?" 

The people who grew up in the dirt of the South-East of Jorkhan had often spoken about the cruel, Kylo Ren. Speaking about his terrorising powers and how he used them for the darkness of the Universe instead of what it was intended to be used for. Some described him as spiteful. That he was born in a state of misery and built his force from those reflections. 

I had fretted from their tales, that he would be an inhuman man – And don't get me wrong, he was all of those things they said; But upon meeting him, I have discovered there is two sides to him, one was just more overbearing than the other, as he just chuckles and mumbles,

"I asked you a question first."

I give a small smile to the smouldering underneath his stony expression. His rages are always a warning in the back of my mind, but as he mimics my smile with a challenging smirk, I simply give into that hidden side of him – The side that tales never spoke of. The side that made me sometimes, fret that he is a real human rather than an entire monster.

"Yes, well – Maybe, I will answer, if you answer me first." I tilt my head to the side, but straighten it as soon as the crown begins to fall once again.

Like Ruby, he considers me for a moment. And in that tension, I worry that he will just downplay my question as a silly Princess who didn't understand the world and never would. But when he sighs and relaxes in his chair and brushes his thumbs with his index, gloved fingers on the table, I bite away the relieved smile that tugs on the corners of my mouth.

"Jorkhan has always been an ally, and they have always contributed to The Order, generously." He said with a tone that sunk into my chest, whilst somehow also wrapping around my inner soul. 

I etch my brows in closer,

"Then, why does there need to be an arranged marriage between you and I?" I ask and suck in a sharp breath when he purses his lips at my words. I try to cover it up with more, just before he begins to replay them in his mind, over and over.

"Why does both Jorkhan and The First Order, still want more?"

Twisting his mouth to the side, he glances to the retreating suns behind my head and says without a hint of thought, 

"Because with the union, Jorkhan will be considerably, The First Order's. Not just an ally anymore, but a key." He deadpanned, as if it was the simplest thing to understand, but I still had more to ask – Just as if I was trying to spill out as much as I could before he bottled up and erupted into anger like he usually would.

"And what does the King– _My Father,_ get from that?" I almost slip up, but he doesn't notice.

"He gets a stronger bloodline. A family name that will go on for generations with power withholding his monarchy, all across the Universe, not just his little planet." He tuts at the mention of Jorkhan, belittling its glory with his desire to concur more, 

"The First Order and Jorkhan together, is total sovereignty." He looks back to me, tilting his head from side to side.

Sovereignty. He says it so apathetically. There's a certain power to that word, this I know – But I also know that if The First Order fully turn Jorkhan into one of their Empires, the less-fortunate will perish and only the strongest will rise... People like him. 

Sovereignty is the full right and power of a governing body over itself, without any interference from outside sources or bodies. In political theory, sovereignty is a substantive term designating supreme-legitimate authority over some polity. In law, sovereignty is the exercise of power, but not by fairness.

It's a world order, based on the name of war. I get it now. The people of the Kingdom and The First Order will greatly benefit off of the union between Kylo and I, that is why the King needs me to play my part – But the rest of the Planet? Well, lets just say, when I return back to the slums... There might not be a slum to return to at all.

"But what about the people of Jorkhan?" I quickly spat out, before the flood of stutters, anchored my tongue to a dexterity of fear.

Kylo Ren laughs low and nods his chin upwards, "What about them?"

My face falls. But I pick it up before he notices. With his low, deep and heavy words, it vibrated with power and command throughout me, and yet, he didn't even know that I was one of those people that I worried about.

I felt like I was still sitting here, fighting with Ruby once again – But instead, this is a fight I would lose if I found the confidence to let him know that I was raging inside.

Twisting the tip of my spoon among the silk of the napkin folded by my empty plate, I focused on the wrinkled, tendrils caused, rather than the acid that rises in the back of my throat.

"Well – Did you know that a large portion of this planet, are indeed poor?" I raise my brows and ask him in a soft tone, "Not everyone here is bathed in riches to share to the Kingdom, nor The Order. So... What would become of them?"

"The poorest would most likely be enlisted into the StormTrooper Corps." He explained nonchalantly, "It's a purpose for those who never had one before. It's a reason to become a further union between The First Order and Jorkhan."

I gasped quietly and he noticed the shock rest upon my features before I could hide it with the weary smile that I smacked over it. In his arrogant triumph, his smirk only grew, and he tilted his head back in a notion of victory, as if he was pleased with the shock of news. It was so subtle, but it was even more infuriating to me, who caught the glimpse of it in the brown around his pupils.

That was even worse than I could have ever imagined. The people who lived below poverty lines, hated the Kingdom, but despised The First Order even more. 

To force them to fight for a war they do not believe in, is like a drawing execution that torments the prisoners of this eventual union, with The Order's creative tales that mask their eventual, torturous death on battlegrounds, with a framing that tells them they will be considered heroes for their sacrifice – But no part of it will be sacrificial, it will be _forced._

"The StormTrooper Corps?" I breathe, shaking my head again, "I am certain none of those people wish to fight for The Order." 

Kylo Ren only hums and leans in, "Why not?" 

_Don't mess this up now._

His eyes hallow onto me.

"I have heard whispers that many do not agree with your ways." I whisper, avoiding the croak in my throat that threatens to release. 

I notice the orange seep into the small, opened hall now, where only we sit. And upon his handsome features, the two sun's orange-gold stretches far and wide, the colour of fire hearths and tangerines that I would pluck back at the orchards. It is but the reflection of the dusk, the promise that the sun that comes after the velvety night has had its say and the land has rested once more. Another beginning, I suppose... But a world in The First Order's palm, could only result in the conclusion.

"It doesn't matter what they agree with," He says, "I am certain many will be enlisted with sanction."

"So, without a will?" I scoff, easing the tension with a small laugh afterwards, just so he wouldn't grow either suspicious or hostile, 

"Sanction without consent?" I add.

He laughs too and I want to immediately smack the smirk off his perfect lips, and the same with the constellation of freckles upon his porcelain cheeks.

"You cannot win a war with only consent and will." He points out, rubbing his gloved hands together as if he was awakening the evil within him, "But, I am sure many will go graciously and fight for the Order, anyway."

His words cause me to think of poor, golden Anwar, wrapped in the white, heavy armour of a StormTrooper. Forced to fight for the very thing he loathes. I can picture the sadness upon his features, they resemble the way he stared to me as I was carried away in The First Order's vehicles, never to be seen again.

I try to imagine what would happen if The First Order military placed a gun in his dirty hands – And the only thing I could then think about, is who would he shoot first?

_The members of The Order? Or himself?_

"I still strongly doubt it," I say before I dwell too sorrowfully, only hanging onto that memory of him in the orchards, in case I need to remember the way his golden hair, shimmered in the sunlight, "Those people in the slums have nothing to lose."

Kylo Ren nodded, 

"I guess you and I will have to wait and see. Sure, some people feel as if they have nothing to win or lose..." He drawls, leaning in further across the table and staring me down intently, 

"But you, _my Princess,_ will soon figure out that people will do anything for money and power."


	14. Fate's Plan

At first, there was only a deep darkness. Not quite the hot dark of embers, but a soft, hopeful dark, where there was nothing in the void that could hurt me, other than the shapes that my own eyes would fabricate to fill the blank.

It's a certain darkness that comes just after your eyes flutter shut beneath the sheets of a thousand curtains, or a kind of dark that helps the night terrors cling onto the overbearing bland.

I can only hear the sheer beat of my futile heart. I can only smell the fragrance of wet grass or soil, that slosh around my feet, although, I cannot see either of the world's surface.

I call out for help, but there's nobody here to hear my callings other than my own echo, it seems.

My scream rattles and shrieks all around the void, banging on imaginary corners and booming straight back to me, until it softly fades away.

That pensive beat of a drumming heart returns, and at first, that is all that creates a sinful, treacherous melody – But then I hear it...

Music. Stringing chords. Drums of leather. A choir of sorts from the banquets. I can't hear what their singing, no matter how hard I try to listen. They're speaking in a soft tune, a harrowing rhythm that soothes the beat of my heart to a dense throb that slows so much, it eventually shocks me back to life when it thrashes itself against the cage of bones around it, in attempts to fasten its pace to normal.

All at once, with that rupture against my ribs, I am thrown to the floor on my hands and knees, and I cry out in the hazy fall, which doesn't just smack me to the surface quickly, instead, I fall for years and years until then I see her, reaching out to me with a frightened face and extended limbs, bracing for impact.

I furrow my brows in the fall and she does the same. She is me. She is my own, liquified reflection. I flinch and finally bury my hands in the thin pool around me.

Suddenly, there is a light and I am the shadow of my own reflection. That same blackness submerges me into its chaotic ink, but the water around me swirls and withdraws in my fall, whilst keeping me in my place of its icy touch.

The choir is softer now, but as I stare at my own reflection, I become immobilised in my terrified eyes that shine around the golden hue which enlightens a halo around me.

The crown is upon my head and so is the birthmark below my eye. I touch it gingerly with the tips of my shaking fingers whilst the gold of my crown shines. Just as flesh meets flesh, I notice that the choir is drawing closer. They're singing something else now, something darker than the void and heavier than the thick tension.

I hiss out loud when the mark upon my cheek burns my fingers and I withdraw my touch and glare into the pond. The gold is brighter and as loud in the jewels as the choir has become, only, it wasn't the gleamy glitzing of my crown, it was something much more valuable that shined from behind me.

My breathing becomes heavy and I turn to face it.

The dark that encourages me to meet the light, gives me a drawing sense of turning into a slip that dragged me straight to the deepest depths of my unconsciousness, blissfully unaware of the way I tossed and turned in bed, and instead, kneeling me to the divine creation that brought me so remorsefully to the heat of it as if I was a moth to the sun's beam.

He's got a smile of an angel, but the soul of the devil himself.

Around his figure, is that type of dark that creates a complete, solar eclipse around him, flickering against the golden light, the noise of the choir and the feeling of breathing. The light came straight from the orbs of his brown eyes, lightening them to an illumination that reflects off the crown upon my head, leaving me in the silence of serenity for a few seconds until I called his name.

_"Kylo."_

The strings of the choir shriek at his name and his smile falls with the hectic melody.

The snarl that erupts his chest, is enough to make my heart decide to stop beating and the skin on my flesh, feel as if it is melting into acid – But those eyes keep me moving in, no matter how much I try to claw against the imaginary walls to tear myself away.

His eyes mystify like a sunset before a deadly night, a kind of dark that helps the brown and gold blossom across the sky, above my trembling frame, as if I was a small flower flickering in the open winter air, which it surely, won't survive.

On my way over to his inviting hands that are held out towards me despite the horrific expression on his face, I fall to the ground in attempts to run away, but I'm still only moving closer somehow. I'm on my blistering hands and knees, screaming for help, clawing at the mere inches now between him and I.

Just as his shiny shoes are in my glossy eye-line, becoming soaked by both my tears and the water below the soles, I suddenly am crushed into his chest – My arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, my head laying upon his heart and his big hands, curling around my lower back, keeping me steady as if he was the only solidarity in these, invisible, thrashing winds which my own lungs conjured.

He's so warm and comforting, as if the light inside of his eyes were only the windows where the fire inside his soul, licked against. I draw my face away, only to look ignorantly closer at the glory that swirls around his big pupils, as if they were a river of gold instead of just, ordinary brown.

They're not just a trickle of flame. They're a raging bonfire. A destructive heat that would scorch a planet to ash. Soon, my skin was resembling the surface of boiling lava and beneath the flesh, my blood was a messy concoction of toxic bubbles and poisonous gas.

Lost in the depths of his deadly eyes, I am suffocating on the fumes that my own body forms as I die in his protective hands. I am desperately trying to wake up. There's even a pain in my surging brain.

Just when I take my last breath, he smiles and all at once, everything shifts and turns around me and I feel another sense of falling, but I am bringing him down with me.

We fall into another body of water, only this one rises and laps around my knees instead of my bare toes, drenching the bottom of my dress completely. I shiver in the needed ice of the liquid and sigh once again, back into his chest and listen to the gruelling beat of his heart.

Only, it's different this time. It's like the beginning of the choir's chords. It's softer. It's kinder.

I'm wrapped so tightly in his arms, but I can tell they are thinner than they were before, the bones inside, digging into my own flesh, the same with the bones across his chest, into my cheek.

I swallowed loudly, but my dry tongue was incapable of assisting and suddenly, my stomach grumbles loudly. It aches in a way that I haven't felt in a while and I had almost forgotten the dreadful feeling that would scratch at my insides in a needing hunger – No, _starvation._

I furrow my brows upon the steady beat of the new heart and I greet his golden eyes once more, only they aren't golden anymore.

_They are green._

There are more shades in the emerald canopies than golden hair upon his head. But it's not just green that thrashes in those familiar, subduing eyes, there's lights and stars that shimmer in the colour, welcoming me home. Some are nascent, bright, yet still pale enough to glint from above the heavy shade.

I can see my own reflection in the deepest circle of green around the dots of his soul, and I resemble the frail girl that I was meant to be. The dirty, dying girl with rags for clothes and silver above her cheekbones, not a fake birthmark. The only thing that stays, is the crown above my head, but the diamonds and jewels in his carrying, shine brighter than it ever could.

Between those two that lay upon me softly, with the hint of a memorising smile, are every shade, every hue. I'm falling again, but only into his memory, where the fall of green comes like seasons passing and the transient beauty that his weak heart buries. 

The green fields in Anwar's eyes, were lush and wild, like a orchard's without the labour, full of promise and hope.

"Anwar." My lips move and say, but no sound forms – For the band plays once again and the choir is drawing in.

Just like Kylo, his smile was potent for a moment and I buried my soul in the creases around the rosy lips, until those eyes landed upon the crown above my soft hair. The emeralds narrowed and he made a shocked sound in the back of his throat as he tried to shove me off him, in a chaotic tremble of disbelief, but I hold him to my body tightly, not letting him away even if my weak bones do break in his thrashing.

"Anwar!" I shout over the choir and cry.

My heart has already stopped beating, but now truely in the hurt of his gaze, I am perishing. I'm clawing my nails into the flesh of his back and screaming for him to hold me back but he won't as the water swooshes and claps around our legs.

"That's not who I have become!" I sob into his chest, "I'm still the old me!"

It feels like eternity that he tries to cling me off him, but like my body, the lack of food is enough to keep him from fighting for too long as he eventually gives up and breathes heavily down to me.

There's tears in his eyes and his heart is singing louder than the choir ever could.

I smile to him warmly, despite the salt that falls into my parted lips, but he doesn't return his one that I remember so clearly, being my will to live.

He shakes his head and narrows his gaze upon me, but there's a certain glaze above his green eyes too, "You're not my girl." He spat, "You're an imposter."

I feel his arm move like a sly snake around my back and to the waistband of his work denims, and just as I glance to the blue cords in his arm, I see the shine of silver that beacons in the emerald shine of his hurting eyes.

I gasp and try to thrash away from him now, but suddenly, the water shifts into quicksand and I am now stuck against him, letting us both sink into the suffocating beads that cut my tears in half and threaten to fill my gaping mouth of pleads, which I snap shut after heaving in my last breath before I am buried beneath it with Anwar.

My head is pounding, every cell in my body is screaming for oxygen. I keep fighting until I feel like my head is about to explode, I have to take a breath. So I do, but I only choke on the dirty sand instead of expensive air.

My crown rests at the top of the surface perfectly and only my fingernails can penetrate it as I am dragged to the deepest depths of life.

Just before the darkness draws around the corners of my own mind, below the dreadful sand, I feel Anwar pull me in closer to his chest. Dying together for eternity, he then plunges the sharp dagger into my back, bringing me back into that starting void, where my soul bleeds a crimson into the blank.

I heave a breath of needed oxygen inwards, which wasn't there, and suddenly, I am snapped up into a sitting position, crying for the cool air that licks at my flesh. I claw at the sand around my hands, but it's not the coarse beads, it's soft silk.

There's a stream of terrified sweat, trickling my back in acid-like strands and just when the room doesn't spin so drastically around me, halting to a sharp stop, I realise that I was finally awake.

My fear begins to build in my moment of clarity, smothering me with its everlasting grip. I feel the wind shuffle through the lace curtains to the balcony, and sting the tears in my restless eyes, biting at the sheen of water, whilst a tension builds behind them, in the form of a powerful, fear-fuelled headache.

The ghost of my nightmare was more silent than the grave it arose from in my mind, as it returned over and over behind my staring eyes with heavy lids and a slack mouth. I recall the way I fell into my own reflection first, _before both Kylo Ren or Anwar had appeared_ , I was the old me. The girl from the orchard's, with cheekbones accentuated into a skeletal look and in a gaze that wasn't robbed of emotion – But once I crashed upon the watery surface, she disappeared and only the crown and I, became the new reflection.

I became the girl who Kylo Ren, brutally, wouldn't let go of. I became the girl that Anwar tried to flee, until he eventually, wouldn't let go either and sunk me into the deepest depths, plunging a dagger into my spine and leaving me lost for eternity.

"It was just a dream." I mutter lowly to myself and cling onto the sheets around me, Kylo's side, incredibly thieved of his body.

Swallowing on my sandy mouth, that is only dry from the memory of sinking into my nightmare's quicksand, I kept my eyes open until everything in the night's darkness, became recognisable.

I sigh into my hands and rub the watery eyes, letting the salt heal my twitching palms. _What even was that dream? Was there a meaning to it that I knew subconsciously?_ Those thoughts became a desire and my insides lit with an intensity to somehow understand the meaning of it all, but I couldn't – It just didn't make sense.

My body crumpled to the pillows, loose feathers and Kylo's musk, hitting my senses and brushing my flesh – And with the scent of him, I think back to the conversation we had a couple of days ago. How Jorkhan was going to be, undeniably, his one day, thanks to the eventual union between him and the next of kin for the throne.

I pray that the real Princess is found before I wed him, but at the same time, I am conflicted because when The First Order eventually take over, everything we have ever known, is no longer what it was.

All I ever longed for, was to return back home – To the slums. But after what Kylo had told me, now I know, there will not be a slum to return to. Anwar will get enlisted into the StormTrooper program and so will every other essential man or woman, who are below the poverty line.

The orchard's may still grow, this I believe because I know for a fact, the supplements and vegetation provide Jorkhan with most of its wealth, whether that be by trade on the surface or to other planet's – But what would happen to the pickers? Would their livelihood and income job, be replaced by the intelligent droids that The First Order create?

And what would happen to me once the Princess returns? Would I be somehow tied into the lower ranks of The First Order like everyone else, who will be given a nature of slavery in the fabricated words of freedom and purpose? Polishing a commander's shoes, or perhaps degreasing the expensive ships?

Bile rises nervously into my throat.

If by the slight chance that the King actually lets me leave this place of choking tendrils that wrap around me with every lie I am forced to tell – _Alive_ – I would only be living for the very Order that will destroy all that I lived for. Either way, I am leaving somehow, dead.

I shiver in my sadness that laps over the icy chill of the night's breath, which particularly sways through the sheer curtains and sinks below the thin material of my nightgown, where my bare arms, cling around the silk torso. Glaring to the grand opens of the balcony, I wished there was a door or blinds to cover the moon's shine that beams through, despite my inner darkness.

But as I allow the moon to shine upon my face, from my spot upon the lush bed that sat in the middle of the blue hue it caused, I am thrown back to my own nightmare, where a figure blocked the light ahead.

Wide shoulders. Long stance. Brooding muscles that tense on the naked flesh of his back. Kylo Ren stood tall at the stone boarder of the balcony with his large hands tensing and curling around the edge.

Even from here, I could tell he was so deeply in thought, that he didn't seem to hear my creeping footsteps that pattered on the stone path behind him. But he obviously did, that whole time he stood so still, as if he was mimicking either the painted portraits or the marble statues below, he knew of my presence for just as I was mere inches away, heading to the empty spot beside him, he said,

"You were having a bad dream."

With his rough and deep tone, his words slipped off his tongue but not in a questioning way. More so, that he somehow knew that I was begging for help in my dreams, or he just heard my quiet sobs in the bed moments ago.

His skin is pale beneath the illumination that the star's graciously give, but not as white as his knuckles that clench around the stone – His eyes from my dream, never turn back to me when I whisper, just above the howls of the sky.

"Yes." I answer with a nod as I take in the view, but my attention only stays onto him with curious, sidewards glances.

His jaw is tight and his eyes lack emotion, just the way they always would. But right now, against the fragility of the far away stars, for some awful reason, I'm not as cautious as I usually would be around him. It's like a major part of my soul had given up back upon the thick sheets that cocooned me before, where I realised that no matter what, the girl and life I once was and had, are no more.

The realisation doesn't hurt like I thought it would. I feel almost numb. But at least, I'm not scared anymore, it's almost peaceful actually in the crisp air, but that isn't what litters goosebumps over my flesh – It is his gaze that is the cause of a warming rapture in my chest.

Kylo Ren. The brutal, damaging man that I shared a bed with, and possibly soon, half of a union. If only he knew who I actually was, and how much him and The First Order, were indeed, tearing me to shreds beneath these futile defences.

His lips shake in the moonlight, as if he is trying to form the letters for his next sentence before just blurting them out. Kylo was always like that, I see that now. Always strong and reserved, what made him this way? Or sadly, was he just born this destructive beneath the mask of a ticking time bomb?

Kylo Ren swallows roughly and I watch the stern bobble down his throat with the assistance of his Adam's apple, "What was it about?"

A true question this time. But not as apprehensive as it should be. In his tone, it's almost demanding my answer, as if he doesn't have the ability for patience or the withdrawal of understanding.

That same numbness creeps back into my guts, as if it is a subdue to the pain that scratches at my innards, writing the story of my nightmare with my own blood. The brewing lack of pain only makes my ego boost and I carve a small smile upon my paling lips, "Aren't dreams purposefully created by the sleeper's mind, meaning it is only intended for them?"

Kylo huffs a small breath of intensive chuckling, but his lips do not form into a smile nor the smirk I usually see plastered by the splatter of freckles upon his face – Instead he only raises his eyebrows and sighs, looking back to the view and leaving the conversation concluded with my snarky reply.

I too, turn my gaze to the velvet dark, where the moon and the patterns of the stars, are so fixed yet ever-changing in their glimmers. So stretched into the sky, where it looks as if the same artist who had painted every portrait in the kingdom, had banged their brush on the moon's curvature, leaving the white paint to go splattering against the perfect blanking of the Universe.

I wonder, if when Kylo looks above, like he did so now, he thinks about all the places he has been, whether he recalls the stars he has flown by or the planets he has destroyed with The First Order, the same way as he will do so with this one.

In the clouds of my breath, the mist points my eyes to the mountains beyond, that try to drag me to the place I called my home, one far away from the King's hands and in the strands of the flourishing fields, that Jorkhan's wealth, partially leaned upon. Even the stars seem to promise me there is hope to return, but I know truely that my life is a scuttle beneath the darkness that shall always seek the light, but never return to it.

"You are overwhelmed." He hums, but his voice doesn't surprise me – What surprised me is that he could sense something that swirled within me, even beneath the masking of my new friend, numbness.

I bite my lip softly to keep it from trembling, "You can sense that, this very moment?" I question him lightly, now becoming the one with my face glued to the view as he turns to me and leans his side against the stone.

"I could feel every emotion within you, the moment you fell into your nightmare." He said with the richness of his tones. I give a defeated smile to the moon and turn to face him.

"I'm sorry that I awakened you." I apologise nicely, despite the drop of my shoulders, where the thin strap of my nightgown, slinks down the flesh of my right shoulder.

Kylo Ren's golden, brown eyes flicker to the white strand for a moment, following it as it grazes my flesh and gets laced into my fingers as I pull it back up to my collarbone. He keeps those heavy browns lingering along the bones beneath my neck as he says slowly and for once, without much thought,

"Don't be." His eyes etch up my chin and to my lips, and then all at once, snap away to the view behind my head, "It's my own fault, anyway."

A shiver runs up my spine and I contort my face whilst my mind jumbles into a sudden perplexity, "How could that have been your fault?" I ask him, genuinely concerned to what his answer could possibly be.

I try to avoid dropping my eyes to the toned torso before me, as he sighs heavily and the muscles upon his chest flex in his sudden truth, "I don't know if I could ever possibly answer that question truthfully –" He says, turning back away and gripping onto the balcony as if he was trying to resist either crushing the stone to pebbles or throwing himself over.

I furrow my eyebrows tightly and take a close step towards him, opening my mouth to speak words that at this very moment, are unknown to me, but he cuts me off just as a syllable falls off my tongue,

"I have tried asking myself the same thing, over and over – But I cannot find the right answer." Kylo mutters, glaring to the distance as if his misunderstandings were the grass strand's fault and not his. I'm only growing more confused by the second and my skin turns to a stance as the air upon my arms and neck prickle with his next, unexpected, confession,

"All I know, is something in me, is growing too attached," His velvet tone sighs, then turning back to me once more, but keeping his hands ever-strong upon the barrier, "And I cannot seem to control it nor kill it."

My lips part and my throat goes scratchy and dry as I try to contain the tremble of my limbs and features.

_Growing attached? To what? Please don't tell me–_

"Why would you need to kill your attachment to something?" I whisper briskly, standing still beneath the survey of his heavy eyes that fall to my bare feet and then back to my lips.

Kylo Ren's vulnerability seemed to boil my skin and blood, all at once with no sign of ever cooling. No longer was there a hazy glow around him and neither was the moon that shined upon his perfect features, as my apprehension began to cloud.

"Because... I have never felt emotions like this before," He tuts, his demeanour vastly changing to one that seems as if his own tongue and tone is disappointed with the rest of him. He shakes his head and knits his forehead together, "And fate didn't decide these uncanny attachments for me, either."

That lump from earlier, rose ever so tightly and acidly than before, back into the tip of my throat and as much as I tried to force it down, it never left. I'm suddenly thrown back to my own inner battle, where the person I once was, fought the present me, screaming at her that this isn't the course my life was meant to take.

But now, I wonder – Why do we believe that the Universe had always given us an intended destination? Maybe, there is nothing telling us who to be and who we were born to serve, maybe... We are just free ranged in this starry course of a galaxy's way.

Maybe, it wasn't fate who had forced me to be here, but instead, bad luck?

I suck a sharp breath in and speak, "How do you know what fate had planned for you?"

He licks his lips lightly, and my eyes dart to the pink tongue that etches out to his bottom lip, glistening it in a shine slowly and then returning to form his reasoning, "I know, because fate doesn't give people like me, who have done the things that I have, people like you."

My face fell slowly, like the destruction of a palace's brick wall. His words sting something inside me, back awake and the emotion thrashes against me violently. I felt stunned, shocked and unsettled, all at once and together, they were like gasoline to my heart and memory.

My fists involuntarily curled into themselves, my nails digging into my palms to try and wake me back up from this nightmare – But it wasn't a nightmare. It was real life, and that realisation had stuck me as hard as his slap did, the night I first met him, when he continued with,

"And that same reason, is why destiny has decided that you will never feel the same way for me, which I slowly and unwillingly, grow for you."

My own ears form the cries of the choir from my dream that close in on me and boom to the thudding of my heart, when he grabs the wrist of my arms, into the palms of his hands.

_No. No. No!_ I panic, he's growing feelings for me, and I'm not the real Princess! I am not the woman he will be wedded to!

In the ring of his brown eyes, I stare back at myself in a mystified and gaping expression. I didn't think of the man who held my wrists, as even human before I had met him. He was a weapon. A virus to the livelihood of the Universe, who fought for all the wrong reasons. But staring to my own reflection, the same way I stared to the pool in my dream, I realise I was looking at the face of my true enemy.

I stutter and blush before him, "I-I."

He cuts me off, withdrawing a hand from my left wrist and placing it to my cold cheek, which his long fingers, immediately warm up, "Spare me your lies."

My heart pulsates. If only he knew.

Shuffling his feet closer, I can feel the heat flood off his panting chest and right here, this close, I can also feel his cool breath fan my face and I bask in the subtle wind from his lungs, trying to demolish the crimson in my cheeks. He adjusts himself in-front of me, standing straighter and with this new angle, I have to crane my neck to properly look at his face, though I become petrified below it.

"Tell me honestly, Princess –" _Oh, Gods. He knows,_ "What do you long for so deeply in your chest, with a burning desire that penetrates my own defences?" He questions.

Short-term relief spread across my chest like a wildfire, but the realisation of his true meaning, flooded the relief and made the seeds of misery grow in the tortured soil of my heart.

I long for a lot of things.

I long for freedom. My past. Anwar. The desire to forget about all of this. Normality. I miss everything, out of the nothing that I once had – But that is not what I end up, regretfully, admitting.

_"I miss the feeling of home."_

I could see wind-stirred waves in his eyes of a deep, golden ocean. And he softens them to me enough, that I can see the depths for a few seconds of timid blur, until I pull myself out before drowning within the space around the black, "Home?" He whispers the word, unknowing of the real settlement beneath my reasoning.

I nod, "I miss the feeling of happiness and purpose – Together, a feeling of home."

Kylo tilts his head and sighs, brushing my cheek softly and curling the loose strands of hair behind my ear, "Those feelings are as impossible as my fate." He simply says, and I question him as to why, shortly after.

"Because one cannot simply have both." He tuts.

I shake my head, but his hand only follows, "I'd like to have both."

He chuckles, finally giving me a simple smile – But it's the type of one that resembles the way an adult looks to an ignorant child, who's eyes are too big for the cruel world,

"It's impossible," He repeats, never scrapping away his smirk, despite his words, "They are two completely different courses, which fate cannot provide – To be happy, is to be content and grateful for what is completely, out of your own hands. To not care for the past nor the future... But a life of purpose?"

He sucks a sharp breath inwards, and I swear a part of my soul is carried through until he breathes it right back out again, "A life of purpose, is a life lived wallowing in the past and fretting for the future that lies ahead. It's a life where you will be constantly searching for a reasoning to your purpose, although, there will never be an answer for you to find..."

My mouth goes dry and for a short amount of suspended seconds, where I allow his other hand to rise and brush the flesh of my cheek, I ponder upon his facts.

I swallow curtly, "But – Isn't a life with true purpose, a life guaranteed with happiness?"

My heart is throbbing so loud, he must hear it above the howling winds and the panting of my own breath. His hands are keeping me warm all over.

He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falling back to my mouth and mine does the same to his subconsciously, "No – A life lived in the never-ending path of unknowing and undemanding, is a life worthy of gaining what you wish for from fate."

I fall silent and he speaks once more, circling back to what had birthed this conversation, "– That is why fate will never give me what I wish for."

In the midst of a heady stare, his eyes fall to mine and mine to his – And just like my nightmare, the colouring is the most beautiful art, alive with in raw energy, a song for my vision, but the soul that peers out of him is so sinister, I cannot believe they are his own – He must have stolen them from someone, much more deserving of light, he must have plagiarised them into something that his own, could never resemble.

Suddenly, the air is vibrating somehow, whispering in a way that his ears cannot hear, but I swear I can hear the soothing melody they sing. In sculpture of his divine hands, he pulled me in closer and I followed the warmth so destructively, that when his eyes fluttered closed and darkened the beam that kept me hallucinated, I finally realised I was about to brush my lips with his own.

I snapped my head to the side, his soft, warm lips falling to my jawline instead. He pulls away quickly, right before the scent of him is about to flood my senses and his face contorts into a confused scowl whilst his hands fall to my upper-arms,

"Why do you always refuse my lips?" He snaps, "But not my touch?"

I bite my tongue, but it seems to slip away from the clench of my teeth to answer him, "Because those two things, mean two different desires to me." I give to him truthfully, and unexpectedly, his wrath subdues.

_What is happening?_

Now unable to keep my eyes on his face, as they instead slid to the ground. Doubt, misery, sadness, solitude, every negative emotion was starting to pile onto heart like thrown sticks and pebbles that bruised the beat to a tremble. It was almost an unbearable weight and I fret before his eyes.

Suddenly, his rough hands leave my forearms, gliding down to my hips and then resting on the curvature beneath the thin material of my nightdress. I gasp at the touch, glancing to the hands that look so naked without the coarse, black leather, leaving me barely able to register the flash of his hair, falling into the crook of my neck, forcing it to the side as he latched his warm lips and lapped his tongue along the flesh as if he was tasting me.

My eyes fly wide, but my hand only snaps to his hair, attempting to tug him away, but instead, I only push him in closer.

Confusion swarms my body and warns the prickle of my skin, but his lips feel warm and soft, and out pure instinct, my eyes have long slid closed relishing in the feeling of his mouth. I had expected him to be rougher, by the way his hands knead at my sides, but his kiss was surprisingly slow and sensual, a way he tried to prevail how they would feel upon my lips, if I allowed him once more.

His hands grip and prod at the silk dress, occasionally dropping and grabbing at the material, but all at once, he blows on a tender spot above my collarbone, which bruises and inks into a deep violet as he then, pulls the gown up my thighs, relishing in the sight of my naked legs which cross over each-other in his gaze.

Kylo shakes his head and tuts, slapping one of my thighs with the back of his hand to which I squeak below my breath at and jump away. Wrapping his toned arm around the small of my back, he keeps me from going anywhere and smirks at only the sight of my legs below the bunched up white.

A timid quietness had settled over me and gripped tightly around my throat. My now, unsettled eyes, glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching his glance that turned upon my frame. I shifted uncomfortably against the balcony as he only gripped onto me tighter.

"Good girl." He praises like he has the past couple of times when I had allowed him to put me in these positions, but with those words, I know there's no turning back for my face flushes warm even without his hands and I curl my hand around his bicep needfully and pathetically.

I trembled at his touch when fingers lingered up my inner thigh. I began roughly swallowing when it is about to reach my delicates, until all at once, his hand snaps to my exposed neck, the long fingers curling softly around but holding on tight, never-less.

He was torturing me as he looked to the veins below his grip and then flickering to the way I was watching him so entranced, and then he whispers lowly, for only I and the moon to hear,

"If you look at me like that... I will try and kiss you again, regardless of what your answer is."

I gasp and with that, he takes it as the right time to swoop me right off my feet and over his shoulder as if I was just like the sacks of apricots back on the orchard farm. I squeal lowly and hold out my hands, bracing for impact but I only fall flush against his back as he holds tightly onto the back of my thighs, by his head and carries me through the archway of the balcony, the sheer netting brushing my legs and then parting to allow us entry.

When I think he is about to throw me onto the bed, I am mistaken, for he only crunches low to the ground and lets me glide over his shoulder, and onto the bundle of messy sheets which I had caused.

I crawl to the head of the bed with a heavy heart, whilst my conscience screams at me to stop before this goes too far, but the desire that floods my veins as if it had been shot into the bloodstream by a blaster, intoxicates my mind the same way the bitter wine would, only this type of drunkenness tastes sweet and warm.

When he looked at me from the foot of the bed, his chest pounding beneath the subtle light, it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from my lungs, only using it as fuel to make the stars behind us brighter. As I watch the way his bottom lip quivered, I knew he had made up his mind, as I did too – Ignoring the reprimands that could follow.

I bite on my confidence, and before I knew what I was doing, I had pulled all of the silk, off my body, leaving me incredibly bare in-front of The First Order, Apprentice.

I am not his betrothed. No – But in this split second, despite the war that would rage, I wish I truely was, purely for the elation his hands could cause as they began to rummage at the bindings of his pants.

Ecstasy and euphoria rushed into my already, intoxicated veins and soon, the entire system, as Kylo began to huff below his breath impatiently. Then leaning over and onto the bed, he crawled closer, seeming like a predator to a prey as he then sunk his lips impenetrably and rougher onto wherever he could, that wasn't my trembling, nervous lips.

When his sinful hands leave my sides and curl into my hair, I whimper and smile to the curtains above the four-poster.

This close, I can breathe in his natural scent and melt into every touch he sprawls across my flesh, falling back to my inner thighs and not wasting anytime before he began to knead at all my sensitive nerves, brushing them the way, he had already figured out, I liked.

My breathing became erratic and my heart was pulsating through every crevasse of my body, my most intimate place clenching inwardly, when it felt another finger prod at the ready entrance.

My insides craved his touch. I craved his touch. In this very moment beneath him, I had lost all rational thought, I was consumed at the thought of him and I, and then as if he was reading my mind – Something, he had promised he would never do – He slowly lunged two, long fingers into my core.

I bucked up against him and moaned.

I only grant him more access to my neck as my head swims. Now, there is only one desire, one wish, and we both know it's just a matter of time before it happens – And I can tell he is growing as impatient as I am.

My hands start to tingle at his back which they had clawed themselves into, slowly etching lower, more nervously, to the undone lacing of his waistband, tugging onto them longingly.

His lips suddenly pull away from my own and his eyes resembled the stars that crept through the curtains, as if they wanted to watch too.

The light within the brown was a spark of enchanted passion and I basked beneath the warmth that it brought to me. A small but teasing smile crept upon his face and goosebumps lined my torched skin like that same, litter in the sky.

Then, something not only stirred in him, but it took over his thinking and for some reason, I immodestly fell onto the same wavelength. The rest of my surroundings became an unimportant blur that was banished into the far recesses of my mind. The only thing that mattered was more of him, twined around me.

With a gentle finger he reorients my face so that he holds the gaze I didn't want to give him, stealing the passion from my eyes in a way that only magnifies the spark as he fed on it and matched it with his own. There is no smile on his lips, only the hot intensity of his gaze that we both know is the start of the inferno to come as he breathes heavily onto me.

Completing his masterpiece, I glance to his his shoulders, always covered by that uniform of heavy black but now, round and protruding, giving his whole look a new flavour. I glance back to his eyes, and I am now, begging him mentally, hoping that it shows in the colours around my dilated pupils. That he would be able to decipher my feelings as I completely surrender myself away for this night.

He asks a question, and like I had done before, I only give him all of my truth in the figure of a body of lies. My soul is electric, and he is a flicker of spark to my need. Slowly, Kylo withdraws his fingers and I notice him glance to my entire nakedness that had spread before him.

He swallows roughly and a form of sweat beads around the lining of his long, raven hair that had become knotty thanks to my twining hands.

Following the lead of my own hands, his fingers overlap my own and assist my wishes.

When his pants etch down and reveal himself entirely, I gasp under my breath at his length.

My eyes widen, and I suddenly realise the stark difference in length from his fingers, but when his hands rest in the dips of my hips, I settle beneath him in sudden trust that I would have never predicted, giving to him.

I feel my back arch in anticipation, knowing where his length will soon reach. My head rocks back against the pillow, the first moan escaping my lips when it meets my entrance. It prods bluntly at first, but I will myself to relax as I clench my eyes tightly and he pushes in slowly, stretching me open resentfully at first, until he slips right in as if I have always wanted him this close.

His hands drop down, one by one, with my head in the middle, as I look up at him with heavy lidded eyes and an arched neck as I moan out loudly, to which he mimics with his deep tones.

When the pain of first entry subdues, I thrust my hips higher, meeting what was left outside of me and he moans, understanding my intentions. Changing my breathing with every thrust and hearing my moans timed to his body.

Then all at once, I feel the pleasure grow, the euphoria swimming in my eyes and flooding my mind as I claw backwardly at his hands that gripped the pillow by my head, interlacing my fingers with his own as he thrusts my whole body, inch by inch to the head of the bed.

The corners of my eyes are becoming hazy around him, seemingly magnifying only him to perfection as he moans and groans above me. Then, Kylo unties the mess of our hands and slips his big ones beneath the small of my back and pulls me up closer, as if he wanted both of our hearts, singing their rhapsody against each-other.

Kylo pays attention with drunk eyes, how my legs move, and watches my body writhe around him in this new position.

He slows his pace for a moment, prolonging our lust and taking time to watch the way my mouth widens with every buck of his hips and the way my eyes almost roll to the back of my head.

"You're such a good girl." He bites, but his torturous pace didn't last very long in his lustful need.

Thrusting up in one quick motion, I screamed to the curtains and rolled my eyes to the back of my head. Holding the small of my back in his big, coarse hands, he guided me and thrusted his hips slowly and then quick, all at once.

I am completely lost in his hands, a way I would have never imagined myself to be – But right now, no part of me is regretful as I fall willingly into his thrusts.

Who could have imagined, that I would be such a weakling to a man's touch? Let alone, Kylo Ren's.

"Oh, Princess." He groans and I whimper his name back, uncaring of the lack of power, and that seems to be the only thing he needed.

Kylo's cheeks began to flush red with the struggle of refraining for so long, breath hitching whilst I screamed for him once more as his eyes leaped over my sweaty body, his member thrusting up and out, attempting pacify his desire.

Just when the heat begins to twist in my innards, I let go as I claw on his muscles and arch my neck back again, allowing him to fall into the crook and abuse the marks his teeth and lips had already caused.

When his thrusts begin to become unsteady and his hands trembled at my back, I know he is almost where I have already reached and then all at once, he cries out into my ear and bucks forcefully, one last time.

Warm liquid fills my womb and surrounds his groin too – But we paid it no mind. Charged with evanescent climax, Kylo Ren intoxicated me.

Drunk on his touch completely, I whine when he eventually pulls out slowly, and our breathing then falls into a steady beat where they fan each-other's face and linger on the taste of our burning but satisfied desire.

He shuffles us around, and for this very moment, I do not care about the chilly breeze to my tender flesh as we lay upon the sheets. His form curling around my own tightly.

I move into his chest, like a moth drawn to only his warmth and as my lungs rise and fall with his own rhythmically, he flicks small whisperings of soft kisses into my hair whilst his fingers curl around my cheek and then turn my face to his.

There's an ever-present pounding in my heart and a hunger in his gaze.

Just when his eyes begin to take over the icy chill, he forces all of the heat within me to flood away like a tsunami whilst another battle of unpleasant emotions begin to swarm my heart like a million, stinging bees who were ready to kill that desire, as easily as he did –

_When he forced his lips to my own._


	15. His Gift

There's a provoking and ridiculing person biting and tormenting at the back of my mind. 

They lay their legs upon my shoulders and scoop the thoughts out of my brain with their fingers, answering to my title, but snapping at all those who speak it, never-less. 

She's the one who creates those terrorising and colossal nightmares and fears, every-night that draw me to chaotic tears and she's the one who will snide at my own reflection, laughing at what I wear and scoffing at the gold and false marks upon me. 

I'm constantly in a screaming battle with her, the voices, a booming eruption of hatred and superstitions, that bring on a raging migraine every-day that I cannot get away from, no matter how hard I try.

Though my migraines were brought on by the constant noise, the past days have been minimal in effort and practically as silent as the still paintings that line every wall in these halls. 

It has been three long and silent days, since Kylo Ren had forced his lips upon me once again, and it has been three, long days, since he and I had spoken. 

There's a brooding attempt of contact on his behalf, but they fall deaf upon my ears, every-time he had tried to search for my weakness and tear down my sudden defence that rebuilt upon the brought down rubble. 

Every-time he tried to speak, I only ignored him intently, waiting for his impatience to erupt and smack me across the face like it usually would, but his fists were never laid upon me in my brooding quiet, though he was close to thrashing them against me sometimes, until he eventually gave up and played the game of silence with me. 

Although, I am theoretically full, I'm hungry for what I cannot have. When the lack of noise on the outside had drawn, my own mind had rumbled with an almighty need to punch through the palace walls and take myself home – But the rational side of my subconscious, still has her claws sinked into my nerves, telling me that I have to stay to keep my life, even though it will never be the same, even after all the gold has been stolen from my frame. 

There's a threat of rain coming as the howling winds outside, sprawl their heavy breath and misty touch upon the hallway, coloured-stained glass, coming to my ears as Jorkhan's peaceful song that clicks to the tune of my moving shoes, seeming to me, like the ballad cry before a brutal war, which nobody but the clouds can see coming.

I know that I am supposably, not allowed to walk the palace alone, but today's servants who tried to pluck and prod every blemish upon my body this morning, were giving me a bigger headache than my own sinful, subconscious and I had to slip away the second they weren't noticing – Just to get a peace of mind. 

I wondered to myself, just how the orchard's were being prepared for the drawing rain... Was the servants already out there, tying the apricot and plum trees down? Are the strawberry shrubs being over-laid by thin, plastic coverings to protect them?

The fruit and vegetable industries and trade in Jorkhan were very valuable, and weather like this, is never good news – A little part of me is delighted for the split second, that I am not there, for I remember the panic that eloped the servants and the way a girl from my picking group, was backhanded the next day, because she tied three trees too loosely. But that delight doesn't stay for long, because I scold myself soon after; Knowing desperately, that I would do anything to be back there right now. 

I gasp quietly to myself and press against the wall of the hallway, that meets a conjunction and grind my teeth together in an effort to keep quiet as I notice two of the servants from earlier, running up the left hall in search for me – The lost, _but funnily enough_ , not so lost, Princess.

When I watch them disappear into the left hall's exit, I laugh softly to myself in my victory and shake my head to their defeat. Pushing myself back off the wall and sighing contently, I turn the opposite corner, without giving so much as a single peak as to who walks upon it.

My smile drops faster than an anchor to the bottom of the ocean and regret becomes the anchor's rope that wraps tight knots around my heart and innards. 

I had nearly run straight into him in my sudden stupidity, and flinched when his prominent nose brushed my own in our closeness as I draw my hands up defensively. 

Kylo Ren stopped just before I crashed into his chest and as I stumbled on my own footing, as if the winds outside had blown through the window, he wraps his gloved hands all the way around my forearms in a strong effort to keep me steady. 

There's an audible, fearful gasp that rolls out of my mouth and smacks upon his features, brushing his black hair from out of his eyes, as General Hux stands somehow, distantly, even though he is by his side, with an ever-present scowl upon his pale features.

I hear a rumble of breath sing in his chest, and for a second, I wonder if it had come from outside instead, but when a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips and he speaks softly before me, I am reminded of the deep voice that Kylo possesses, 

"I was just coming to get you," He hums, tilting his face to inspect me as I take a timid step back and furrow my brows upon him, "Let me guess, you're still going to play the silent victim?" He adds.

Despite Hux's presence, I scowl upon the tall figure of my betrothed and narrow my eyes into slanted daggers that I metaphorically throw into his beating heart. I fight with that shrieking voice of my conscience in a tenacious, dragging of a slow second. 

I'm in a torn battle as whether to speak for the first time in three days, or not to speak, but when he only chuckles at my expression, my voice comes like words dipped in scorching acid.

"I am not playing anything!" I snap. 

Kylo Ren laughs lowly, but the smile upon his face is unsettling as he glances to his ginger peer,

"Ah, she speaks!" He chimes in a taunting tone which makes my skin prickle in the burning sensation that boils my blood to the tuning of his sarcasm. I roll my eyes and try to walk by him, side-swiping his shoulder, only for him to pull me back by the wrist of my left arm. 

Kylo tuts and tilts his head back a little bit, pulling me back in-front of him and looking down to me with hazy eyes as he dismisses the General by his side – Who tells him that he will be back soon for business, before cowering away as if he was trying to get away before the scene escalated. 

When Hux is no longer in sight, Kylo rubs his hands around the circumference of my tender wrist, kneading the veins inside with the gentle push of leather thumbs, "I hope you're not planning on ignoring me for much longer," He breathes deeply and I shake my wrist in his big hand, but his grip never unfolds, no matter how hard I try to escape it, 

"Because, I have something that should get you begging for me again."

His words pour fuel into the acid that bubbles and brews in my stomach and I scoff with disgusted features that tug down my lips as I spit, "I will never beg for you," He only gives me another, dismissing laugh – I continue, not backing down as I recall the way those lips had pressed so desperately to my locked-tight ones, 

"And the only way you're going to get me to speak to you again, is if you apologise for what you did!"

His grip tightened and his insulting, smile grew,

"What I did?" 

I gasp inwardly at his lack of remorse, "You know exactly what you were doing when you kissed me!"

All at once, he lets go of my wrist and I snap it immediately to my chest and rub the tender, bruising flesh with my other hand.

As the winds only brew loudly, Kylo intertwines his gloved hands behind his back and looks down at me with a vigorous stare that made my heart tremble as a strand of black hair, fell back by the corner his eye that dropped to my trembling, dry lips. 

I wanted to smack away his gaze, but his lightsaber still hung by his side as a warning to my confidence.

He sighs and fans the air upon my face cooly, smelling of mint and musk, "Princess, I am not apologising for that." Kylo says low. 

My legs feel empty and there is a rising feeling of nausea from my stomach. My blood begins to boil. I bite my bottom lip in sudden anger and I swear I see red, all at once. 

I open my mouth to bark back a hatred filled cursing of harsh words, but he cuts me off with just one, long finger that he holds up to the lips he longingly stared to, 

He shushed me dismissively, as if I was a child to his adulthood, and it didn't help that when the taste of leather hit my senses, I immediately did as he said as my heart beat heavily against my chest.

His finger then moves from my lips and I relish in the feeling secretly, as he keeps his heavy-lidded eyes upon me whilst twining the cupping of his palm to my reddening cheek. 

My mind is screaming at me to bite his hand off of me, for that heart that beats across from my blistering own, belongs to a destroyer; But I pay that little voice no attention. 

For some unexplained reason, at this moment I feel as if I could drink in all his velvet words like a strong, bitter wine and enjoy feeling tipsy. He could furrow his brows at me and I would still watch his eyes like he had the all stars twinkling bright beneath the brown, although his speech would always ruin the softness of his tone, with the vile intentions sitting beneath them.

His touch is the only thing that tears down my defences, always and never poetically – But the soul within his vessel, leaves me cowering away.

I hate him, and I hate his sinister touch that I now depended on.

"Come." He ordered, "Have a look for yourself at what I have gotten you, and then decide whether I still need to apologise or not."

Then leaving my face bare, he turns on his heel swiftly and thuds his heavy footing on the glossy floorboards below, in the opposite direction. 

I'm left standing dumbfounded and crimson in my place, where my insides are all fighting against each-other with sharp spears that stand as tall as the hair on my arms, on what to do – But when he turns his head and gives me a single, raised brow, I immediately follow my ignorant heart and glide to his side nervously.

At least my subconscious was still hanging onto reality, as she put a big enough distance between he and I, to prove that I was still angry at him, but that didn't stop him from continuing to brush the back of his leather hand to my own, as I followed every turn he made in the palace, then through the courtyards and beyond.

Ignoring the tell-tale of the now-soft winds, the sky is still a bleak grey that shunned me below and warned me with the metallic smell of drawing rain as we sloshed across the freshly cut grass of the fields around the Kingdom, Kylo ignoring my sullen bickering that pestered him, despite the warming of my heart as we arrived to the paddock.

Searching for answers, I held onto the sides of the fencing and narrowed my eyes upon the emptiness and then to him, "Why did you bring me here?" I ask him, but despite my gaze, he isn't paying attention to the emptiness but biting back a smirk that tenses upon the muscles of his face, whilst he also rolls those brown eyes, 

"Always asking questions instead of just waiting to understand yourself," He scolds me playfully, then adding the dreaded words that I want to tear out of the air whenever Ruby utters them, "With patience in time, comes answers."

My shoulders fall slack and I raise my eyebrows to him in disbelief. Kicking my heels into the dirt, I roll my eyes, "Fine – I don't care what you have planned anyway," I say bitterly, turning around and trudging through the grass once again, but like before he stops me – But this time not with his forceful tug. 

"Oh, alright!" He sighs tiredly, slapping his gloved hands to the brisk air and then back down to his sides, "I'll tell you, just come back over here."

With my back to him, I bite away a smile and turn all at once, that same pensive look on my features as I return to his side and motion for him to continue. 

As Kylo only turns and glances to the empty field, where all the horses had possibly retreated to the safety of the barn, I notice the way his jaw tenses and the litter of freckles beacon in this bland light, and suddenly, I am thrown back to the expressions that same face, had fallen into whilst he laid upon me, who writhed beneath him all the same. 

_Stop it!_ That voice shuns me and I shake my head quickly, just before he turned back to face me, who was two seconds away from turning beet-red once again. 

"Your gift isn't out here." He says, dragging his words and twining his hands tightly together. 

_Gift?_

I can't remember the last time someone had properly gotten me a gift – Not if you count the slice of chocolate, Anwar had graciously given to me the day I unknowingly departed. 

My heart sinks, but his deep tone, somehow lifts it back up.

"It's in the stables." He motions his head to the back of the field, where the little, wooden stable was tucked neatly upon the greenery. 

My lips part and my face falls. 

"Come." He orders again, leaving my side once more and walking in the direction of the stables as my eyes widen and I fall flabbergasted behind his trail, 

"You did not get me my own horse!" I shrieked, not in a questioning tone but rather a shocked cry.

Kylo Ren chuckles low and I grab him on his tense, big forearm, the way he had done so to me, back in the palace hall, and he turns back to me with bright eyes, just before the wooden barn doors, that are closed tightly, but still somewhat sway in the wind.

My throat is dry and my eyes grow watery in the hazy mist, "Did you get me a horse?" I ask delicately, a stark difference to the way I shrieked them a few paces back. 

There's so many emotions swirling and crashing against and inside me, and I am growing weak to their brutal and needing force. 

"Would you like a horse?" He whispers down to me as I search deeply for the answer in his brilliant, brown eyes. 

There's a certain pressure building behind my eyes, but also once again, sitting above my shoulders. Although, we are not yet inside the stables, there's an overwhelming smell that elutes from inside it, hitting my senses like heartfelt feathers that tickle my love with the memory of the stables back on the orchards where Anwar would spend all his time, tending to the beautiful horses inside – So much, that he would often joke that they were greater friends than I was to him, but I knew that to be false by the look in his emerald, home-like eyes – But I'm not falling into the tender gaze of his right now, I'm swirling in the eyes of Jorkhan's and the Universe's enemy, Kylo Ren. 

And yet, I still give him a tender, all-so-real smile that trickles with happiness at his words, "Of course, I do." I croak to him. 

Beneath his brown eyes, a small smile was perched upon his face by soft lips. I could see how it came from deep inside to lighten his eyes and spread into every part of him. That smile is the prettiest thing I've seen in a while, for it extends from his eyes and deep into my soul.

If only he knew that the reason as to why I was so happy, is because I was shattering around the memory of my best-friend, which I could forever cling onto like the mane of a mare, which was his liveliness and something that always reminded me of him. 

Kylo breaks me away momentarily, with his soothing voice that shunned the howls of the winds away, "Then you shall get a horse, my Princess."

All at once, like the pulling of a curtain to a brilliant show, he pushes open the heavy doors as if they weight the same as a soggy piece of paper, and the barn is illuminated by the gleam of outside that creeps inwards as I do nervously too.

The floors were nothing but a deep golden hue of old straw and half empty, hay net hangs limply in the corners of the space. With long rows of stable doors locked tightly shut that horses all peek over at our arrival, I notice the horse that I had often gazed to before, but now another one was going to be mine... 

Was it the grey one that sat lonesome at the back of the stable? Maybe, the honey-coloured one at the front? Oh, could it possibly be the jet-black one on the left, which seemed to match perfectly to the man beside me? 

I laugh a breathy sigh and turn back to Kylo Ren, forgetting all of the reasons I ever hated him, momentarily as I brightly say, "Thank you so much!" He walks closer and swipes the air nonchalantly, I only continue, now less focussed on the horses but instead him, although I wished it was the other way around, "Which one is mine?"

Kylo Ren chuckles at my excitement, shaking his head and clapping onto my shoulder with his strong grip.

All at once, my gaze shifts to him rather than through him, for all I need to know is written beyond those brown windows, but I see it now that even I tried to take a peek, those windows will be forever boarded and locked.

My heart sinks momentarily. 

"Don't get too over yourself yet," He subtly warns, and my smile drops as quickly as the tension builds between the small amount of space between he and I, in this smelly barn. "There's something you must do before I give you the gift – Good girls don't get rewards without deserving it."

"W-What?" I stutter, knitting my eyebrows together and distorting my features, "I thought this was a gift on behalf of your apologies?" 

A sudden silence lingers in the air, muffling even the sounds of the horses and their hooves smacking against the hay around them, behind me. 

I feel fragile beneath Kylo's heavy stare, like I am about to smash like the porcelain doll's which hung in the windows of expensive shops in the upper-sides of Jorkhan. I am waiting for him to turn destructive any second, to pounce upon me with a harsh grip and a violent intent, but he fails to do so.

He shakes his head, giving me a dark stare with his burning eyes, "No – But don't worry, you can still get your precious horse... If you just prove to me that you deserve it first."

I shifted uncomfortably in my place and wiped my sweaty, nervous hands on my clothes, whilst his hand only raised to my cheek once more. A filthy taste suddenly forms in my mouth. That familiar taste where it comes to you in a moment where you feel so impossibly uncomfortable but you're too scared to do anything about it.

I think back to the stable at the orchards, and how this one resembled it perfectly – Even the layout of the tools had been hung the same way that they were back home. It would kill me to not be able to come here more often, to come and pretend for a short moment, that I was back there instead.

My voice came fragile to the steady barn, my words almost cracking in the uneasy air, "What do I have to do?"

Immediately, that smirk returns and he brushes his leather thumb across my lips, prodding the tip inside and wetting the parched pink with the saliva upon my tongue. 

"Kiss me."

He saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it and a small smile played on his lips. I am left feeling so incredibly tortured by his words – Harsh like knives, coated by poison in an extraordinary sort of way but masked as if he was holding a bouquet of roses whilst asking me to kiss him with the petals of my heart. 

There is no boundary with his request and harsh realities sit beneath the meaning. My blood boils but the anger I held, had a dull exhaustion to it, like I have been over the same bitterness too many times before.

I shake my head and back-step away from his hand that dances upon my stiffening flesh. 

"N-No." I stutter. 

_I will never kiss him... No matter how many times he had forced his own to mine._

He takes a step forwards, holding that hand that I had withdrawn away from, outstretched to me, who wants to place my hand into it, but I simply cannot. I shake my head again, already falling into the rendition of the last couple of days, when I refused to speak. 

His eyes turn dark and his smirk morphs into a deadly scowl. He is a chaotic calm, somehow the stress he conveys doesn't just roll right off him, instead it sinks in and twists, bursting out in acts of violence as he slims the distance I tried to make.

He holds a finger to my face and I shake and give him a petrified gaze as he spits onto my lips, brutal intentions. 

"Kiss me, or else you will never get the chance to come here again," Kylo Ren roars, reminding me of the damage he could cause with those hands that have torn down worlds, as he grabs onto my chin and reorientates my gaze which I didn't want to give him, "And I will be sure to enforce that."

In his pensive grip, I felt the panic begin like the lighting of spark plugs that electrocuted my heart which beats so fast, it is surely ready to fall to his shiny shoes in a moment. Tension grew in my face and limbs, my mind replaying the last attack and all of the damaging things he could do to me, if I refused him. 

My breathing became more rapid, more shallow. But suddenly, in the fragile moments before his hurricane, the sound of a creaking shutting of a stable door, clicks into place behind me and feet scuffle through the hay. 

In the midst of our stand off, Kylo's eyes flicker above my head and to the stranger, who seems to hang something on one of the hooks and then notice our presence, for then Kylo's grip retreats, leaving purplish fingermarks in my skin, as the only reminder of his brutal touch. 

I raise my shaking hands to my chin and just as the dreaded tears begin to flood my gaze, an incredibly, familiar voice, speaks up from behind me. 

"Sir, the horse is all prepared–" I turn to the sound, and his emerald eyes lay upon my face, cutting his sentence short and leaving it quiet as he falls into the same slowing of time as I did upon his appearance, "...For you." He draws, almost dropping the leash in his grip, to the barn floors. 

I breathed in and out but air wouldn't enter my lungs. Starved for air, my heart raced at tremendous speeds, and my lungs shallowly rose and fell in time. When the haze began to cloud around my vision, I figured this must be a dream, but with a heartbeat that once thudded too fast, it only slowed so much I wondered as to why I was still standing before him, but I was still up-right, and this was too shocking to my system, to be one of my taunting dreams.

With all the howls winding and singing a new chorus, Anwar stood so perfectly, golden and all, in the mist of the palace grounds with those green eyes that were as wide as mine as they perched onto the golden crown above my head, then softening at the glass of my heart that shattered all around our feet. 

I wanted to run into his inviting hands this very moment, and by the way that his hands shook by his sides, as Kylo Ren uttered something incoherent to him, I knew he wanted me to do the same too – But Kylo's returning grip tore me away, turning me back to the eternity of his stare.

I was shockingly weak, now only the framing of the vessel I was as my soul was already swimming in Anwar's eyes and warming up in the beaming of his blonde hair. Though I stared straight at Kylo's mouth, his words became muffled to my ears, but I read them all too well. 

I stood there for what felt like an eternity but it was actually only a couple of seconds where I was once again, battling my insides on what to do.

"Kiss me." He said,

_Or you will never get the chance to come here again._ My own mind added. 

And Suddenly, I knew exactly what to do if it meant seeing Anwar again and again. 

_Even if he did glance away hurt as I pressed my lips to Kylo Ren's torturously._


	16. Chocolate

Jorkhan's sky seems to be crashing all around me and the grounds below my feet are swaying side to side, in a chaotic ride which is an imposter to the idea of a thrill, replacing it with a hectic bubbling of fear and longing that clash together vigorously in my guts. 

There's darkening boarders clawing at the outskirts of my vision and stretching it so thin, the hazy water above the colour, isn't enough to flood away the burning touch that seeps onto every corner of my system, as I stare frozen at my long-lost, but never forgotten, best-friend. 

Anwar. 

He was so beautiful – Even now, as he stood clammy in his dirty-white singlet, that clings onto every nervous beat of his tender heart that thrashes so tenaciously in his chest, that it pushes all of his blood to his pale cheeks and swarms beads of sweat to seep into the singlet, seemingly gluing the toning below with the material. 

He's wringing the leather of the rope in his hands so violently, that they wrap hues of purple onto his knuckles and palms, reminding me of the scars that had healed on my once, incredibly damaged hands. 

Skinnier than I imagined him to be, my lips wobble for a short moment at the sight of his arms, which the muscles, barely cling onto the scrawny bone that creaks inside – Was he always this skinny? Or had I become used to the chubby and filled stomach's of the Kingdom?

He's still as tall as I remember, but not as tall as the mammoth named Kylo Ren, who holds so tightly onto my wrist, that I begin to loose circulation in my hand as I stare brokenly to Anwar, who refuses to look at me as he speaks with a dead tone, about the horse in-between us, which Kylo ran his gloved fingers over, seeming unknowing to the incredible emotions which battle in my glass heart – But I know he could feel them as tremendously as I did, it just seems he didn't care enough, for he must think I fretted over the long kiss from moments ago, rather than the golden boy before me. 

His hair brought memories of golden wheat fields, of those many hued stems that danced in the sun's light, whispering gentle songs into the wind of unknowing for the future to come. With only small sidewards glances, here and there, I relish in the eyes of green hills of home, wanting so desperately to cut every one of Kylo's words short and fall into the trembling of Anwar's arms. 

_But I can't._

Who knows what the consequences of being exposed as the stable boy's, best-friend, but it surely cannot be good. Kylo will definitely see past his blindness and figure out I am not who I am, and underneath all these jewels and riches, I am as dirty and scrawny as Anwar. 

And then, I will be punished for not keeping the secret... But that wasn't what ultimately stopped me from crashing to his feet and crying tears for his long-needed company, it was the knowing that I wouldn't be the only one punished in this pairing. 

Anwar hadn't seemed to make it obvious yet either, and the uneasy part that chuckled in my guts, told me he ultimately knew that The First Order and the kingdom, were as cruel as he had always presumed them to be. 

I need to tell him everything. I have to get Kylo out of here, or sneak away back to Anwar and cry into his heart, _just like I had in my nightmare_ , that this isn't who I have truely become and that I am being held here almost captive, as much as the horses in the locked-stables were. 

"Most of the general duties needed for tending to the horse will be done by the stable workers, including me, so there's not much workload involved, as per request." Anwar says lowly, taking the opportunity when Kylo looks to the head of the horse, to glance into my guilty eyes, as I recall the sadness that brewed in his own when he watched me kiss Kylo Ren, _the killer of light and the eventual destroyer of Jorkhan_ , so tenderly. 

He snaps his gaze away almost as quickly as it had made a home upon me.

Kylo Ren hums and gives me a small smile which I do not return, 

"Good, good." He murmurs below his breath to nobody in particular, but they were clearly on the basis of Anwar's previous words. 

I chomp on the inside of my cheek hard and forcefully, when I remember the way he had, _so often,_ called me a, _Good Girl –_ And the ever growing rapture of guilt and dismay, only punched deep holes into the pulsate of my sobbing heart, as I felt as if I was being unfaithful to Anwar. Not in the romantic way, though I often had wished, but in a sense that I knew he deeply loathed The First Order, and here I was, allowing the most powerful member of the Order, to wrap his long fingers around the veins of my wrist. 

I taste the metallic flavour of sinking blood upon my tongue soon after, but the caution that should arrive in the painful crimson, is only subdued by the drawn-away tone and expression of the blonde boy.

He shrugs his broad shoulders casually, despite the rage that builds and tilts his head to the side, focusing his eyes to only the horse, that has now become my own – But I do not care for the mare anymore. 

"The only thing I would suggest, is that either of you, insure that you check on him at least, once every two days, so he can get used to your company and trust you enough for eventual riding." Anwar explains so clearly, and I am suddenly thrown back to all those times where I watched him tend to the horses, either by adjusting their gear or brushing their mane, whilst also explaining the little quirks of each mare with a tender smile that I currently wish, could return to beacon me truely home. 

Kylo nods simply, barely giving Anwar the decency of even a subtle glance, 

"I'm sure she will be delighted to make his accompany that often," He says with his deep tones, and I glare at the rosy tinge upon his lips as he turns back to me once more, "She loves the horses, so you must be doing a good job at keeping them to standards." 

He speaks at me, but not to me.

My stomach tightens into a brutal knot and I avoid turning my lips into a scowl upon him. _I hate him. I hate him. I hate him._ I chant over and over in my head, but the delusional side of me, still adds their whispering of... _But not his touch. But not his touch. But not his touch._

I wring my wrist in his leather hands, but he only twists the skin in my movement, making the cut in my cheek only worsen as I bite harder onto the teeth indents I had already caused, at the burning sensation he causes painfully. 

Anwar glances slowly between the two of us, his eyes taking their time upon the golden glare of my crown and then narrowing at the reddening skin beneath the leather of Kylo's grip. 

"She does?" He clenches his jaw, playing along despite the fact he knew me better than anyone in Jorkhan did. Suddenly, he gives me a distant, forced smile and I gasp silently to the stretch of his lips as he says, "I'm glad you enjoy them, but I have only been working at these stables for a week now, the main handler in the stable crew went missing a while back."

A week. He's been here for a week, and I didn't even have the slightest inkling. 

Bile rises acidly into the bottom of my throat, and I swallow the memory of opening my legs to Kylo Ren, whilst Anwar was, _unknowingly,_ only paces away. 

"Have you always been a stable holder?" Kylo turns to him and asks, pretending as if he cared the slightest bit. I mean, he was the one who made the original worker disappear anyway – And suddenly, I am grateful for his stubbornness, for it means Anwar would have never been either asked or forced to tend to the palace's horses. 

Anwar tears his eyes off me for the thousandth time today and beneath the booming of the winds that clash against the wooden barn, I wished the gales of his emeralds could stay. He nods to Kylo, 

"Yes Sir, I used to work with the animals at the farms and orchards in the South-Eastern areas of Jorkhan." Anwar answers low, and my chin trembles at the mention of the orchards from his tongue. _Used to_ – He doesn't tend to them anymore. Did he at least get to say goodbye to his animals before he left, or was he as unlucky as I was? Was he torn from the slavery of the orchards and told to use his labour here instead?

"The South-East orchards?" Kylo rolls the sentence along his tongue, then holding out his leather hand to Anwar, who glares at it intently whilst I furrow my brows upon it in sudden perplexity, "I have heard they are a great essential to the economy – I thank you for your hand in the rise of Jorkhan's supply and trade."

"You're welcome, I am sure those who work at the orchards are humbled to be working for such a grand Order," He bites, shaking Kylo's hand too lightly and quickly, then swiping his palm on the material of his pants as if he didn't want to catch whatever virus Kylo had, that made him turn so evil, "Although, if the weather keeps acting like it is now, I am sure there won't be an orchard anymore!" 

Anwar's tone was utterly sarcastic, matched by the bitterness of his gaze and mouth that upturned towards Kylo, who doesn't bother to snap at him yet, but I know it builds deep within the monster of his soul, which was as chaotic as the rain that began to plummet onto the roofing of the barn.

A tendril of growing worry rises within me, Anwar was right – Weather like this will surely crush the orchards if it goes on for too long. I recall a couple of years ago when there were brutal storms that lasted almost two weeks, and it had ultimately wiped out the new growing of the soil, meaning for the next picking – There was nothing to pick at all.

"– Anyway, how does the horse run?" Kylo then says, finally removing his hold from around my wrist, only to then interlock those long fingers into mine, which barely hung back onto him.

Anwar suddenly, furrows his brows and becomes taken aback. Twisting the leather in his hands even tighter, he scoffs, _much to my dismay,_

"Sir, the horse isn't a machine, he runs as free as any can in the confining of the paddock."

Kylo hovered right there, quite soundless for so long, simply staring Anwar down with a dark look that made my own bones, fall to mush in the heavy tension of the silent standoff between the two. His hands then curl into a fists and the hand that held onto mine, didn't care that my bones were in the middle of it as I hissed in pain, but it seems to fall onto deaf ears.

One moment he resembled a raging sense of unclarity as he only persisted for pushed boundaries, the next he was deep shades of black and mercury as he spits angrily to the man in-front of him, who I had always known that his sarcasm and strong heart, would get him in trouble one day, 

"Listen –" Kylo barks, holding a finger out and scowling, "I don't know who think you are, I got rid of the last trainer and I will do the same with you if you keep speaking with such an attitude."

In the midst of his bitter raging, I pulled my hand out of the tightening of his fists and clung it upon the fearful beat of my chest as my eyes blew wide in silent worry. 

Anwar doesn't flinch, but there is a knowing voice in the back of his mind that tells him to withdraw as he glances to the dangerous lightsaber by Kylo Ren's side. 

When his face falls slightly, I want to pick it back up again, even if it is into a scowl that resembles the man's beside me.

The pain of missing him never calms beneath the carrying winds and rain from above the roofing, and with every lonely patter of droplets, it only becomes more unbearable as I eagerly await the moment when I can be alone with him. 

Just with his presence back near me, I suddenly and all at once, realise how much I truely missed him all along. Though I am much less scrawny than I was, every meal I had eaten in his absence, tasted like cardboard and no chewing made it easy to swallow. Everything reminded me of him, the grass, the paddocks, the horses, the wine – Everything was tied to him like a coiled up string of my heart, and I so desperately wanted to only tie it tighter now around me, wrapping my soul up like a careful present and placing it in his grimy hands to keep. 

If I stop and dwell for too long, I know my face will become unknowingly wet with endless streams of tears, but in this moment I cannot fathom anything else other than the ache in my heart which finally feels something it hadn't felt in a while... _Home._

"I'm sor–" Anwar starts to apologise, but I cut him of before he ever has to bow down to someone so despicable, 

"It's okay!" I speak for the first time before him, my own tone sounding strikingly different to how I remember. 

I notice the way he sucks a sharp breath inwards at the sound, his neck muscles tightening as he does so. Then laying his eyes prominently upon me, this time they don't stare with fear of being caught by Kylo's, but instead, stay with the promising gleam of green.

He was as stern as stone, but there was definitely a lot of wild emotions going on beneath his pale mask of indifference. I would presume him to be a statue until his eyes finally bored into my own. The green less golden, those distant eyes are his shield and sword, sucking out my soul and tucking it beneath his own armour as his lips tugged upwards into a smile as I only mimicked it and prolonged the attention.

"What does he like to eat?" I motion to the horse, asking a simple question that I already knew from a handful of his lessons overtime – But I did't care, for I got to talk to him directly, leaving Kylo Ren to stand behind as I ran my hand over the white mane of the beautiful mare.

Anwar takes a small step forwards on the other-side, placing his hand upon the horse's back and chuckling as he said, "Mainly the carrots and hay..." His eyes shine playfully, "And occasionally, chocolate. She likes chocolate."

I laugh brightly at the mention. A glimmer of another promising trickle of hope as he so easily falls into the person I once knew him to be, as he faintly recalls the treat he had gotten me the day I had left... Something only he and I knew. Something we both laughed lightly over, for a brisk too long. 

"I like chocolate too." I say.

My cooling heart suddenly warms and it is his smile that burns it once again, like an illumination to my darkness, a flame to my furnace. Somehow, even forgetting about Kylo's presence, I feel as if Anwar had searched the moment I left, and had finally found me.

It was only him and I in this tender second that paused in only our time, setting the surroundings to a slow and even forcing the rain's pattering to silence, as everything turned into a bleak black and white around his halo of gold – Him and I, standing proud in our screaming colour. 

Tears dwelled in my eyes, causing illusions to my gaze. The barn was quiet, but not behind the beating of my own, heavy heart. When the bright lights whirl around me in an angry vortex, my peripheral's became blocked by two new guests, and I once again, realised I am not as alone as I had presumed in my sudden daydream.

"Ren." A high voice suddenly calls, pulling me out of my time-pause. When we all turn to it, Kylo included, I am set with the matching twins of ginger and matching, scowling faces of upturned noses to the stench of the barn. 

General Hux scoffs disgustedly at the horses that peek out of their wooden stables, and Ruby straightens her shoulders behind him as he continues with his disgruntled tone that is directed only to Kylo Ren.

"The Supreme Leader requests your call." He says, "I advise that you tend to it now."

I turn away from Anwar and the horse, before my own soul digs its nails into the golden-haired man and refuses to ever look away. Kylo's jaw is locked tight upon the General, but when he turns back to face me with those deep, brown eyes, they soften upon me and he sighs, whilst nodding to Hux. 

_He truely, didn't see anything._

Ruby takes a short step forwards, kicking a strand of hay off her laces and then shoving the loose strands of her bright hair, behind her ears. 

"Princess, I have also come to get you, in Kylo Ren's sudden departure." She says, not bothering to plaster that fake smile upon her thin lips or lift her tone, "Would you accompany me back to your quarters?"

I gasp audibly and snap my gaze back to Anwar, only to worryingly place it back onto Kylo as I give him a shaky breath of begging, 

"C-Can I stay for a little longer?" I utter pleadingly, but for all the wrong reasons. "I want to stay with the horse."

_Forget the horse. I want to stay with its keeper._

Kylo takes this opportunity to lift his hands to my forearms and rub the tender flesh, which only stings at his touch. Just when he is about to speak, Ruby takes no time in cutting him off as she rolls her pale, blue eyes and says, 

"The storm is only brewing, my Princess." Her nonchalant voice speaks. Kylo lets go of me and nods to her words, 

"And the rains are beginning to fall. It isn't safe for you to be kept in this barn whilst the weather is like this." She warns, to which Hux even hums an agreement upon – The two of them were so similar, it hurts. Maybe, they leached upon each-other's hatred for everything. Or maybe, they were both born in the same manufacturing for bland souls.

"Listen to her." Kylo breaks me out of my train of thought, his breath fanning warmly onto the pink that forms on my nose that grows numb in the cold, which I didn't notice until he withdrew his hands from my arms and motioned me by my lower back, over to Ruby's side. 

"Go back to our quarters, I will be there shortly after." He says, and my heart breaks at the mention, for Anwar listens to every single word spoken, but never interjects, now knowing his place in my system of forgery. 

I'm left with a dumbfounded look on my face as I stutter incoherent words to the look upon Anwar's face, but I know there is nothing I can do that will make either of the three, let me stay.

My shoulders cave and so does the rest of me as I follow Kylo's direction and make my way over to Ruby.

"Good girl," Kylo chimes, uncaring of the other people who heard my praising as he looks over to Anwar and says, "I am certain that–"

"Anwar." The blonde boy answers the hidden question. Kylo only continues, 

"I am certain that Anwar will insure that the horse is kept safe whilst you are gone." He says, as if I am a child who doesn't want to part ways with their toys.

Anwar nods, playing along.

"Yes," He straightens his shoulders and twines the leather leash behind his back, "And maybe, if the weather is better, you could come around tomorrow."

Ruby's hand curls behind my shoulder, scoffing lowly at his words and slightly pushing me to the exit of the barn as the door's slap and slam shut and open in the wind.

"We will see about that," She utters, "Come, Princess, before the rain gets any worse."

As she pushes me out of the barn, uncaring of my unwilling feet that only wish to run back to the boy, I kept my gaze back-drawn upon him, until the moment the barn doors shut and cut the emerald's glow away. 

But the hue still warmed my heart, as just as he was gone again, he gave me a small, knowing smile. I grin back at the wooden panelling, which he stays behind.

Once again, my mind anchored in time and space – Everything else forgotten. Now, all my heart can do is beat warm blood around my veins in a hope that the storm will end upon it. All my mind can do is finally understand the most logical path to another safety and to something more tangible than running into his arms, with Kylo watching as I just trudge through the rain with Ruby in-front of me, instead.

The rain conjures a sweet pattern upon my skin, the thousands of liquid globes reflecting the greenery of nature. It is only ice on this cold day, but still, a welcomed shower to add to the senses that overflowed out of my pores and eyes.

As the tears begin to weld, it seems for the first time in forever, they come with a baring of that tangible, needful, hope. For this is only the start, and now I feel as if nothing can stop Anwar and I from getting the hell out of here, even if there will be roadblocks such as Kylo, on our path to freedom. 

Bad weather or not tomorrow, I have to see him.

There was a reason he was here. Whether he brought himself or destiny tugged him along, I will have to find that out soon, but in the small smile he gave to me before I left again, I knew certainly that this wasn't where we ended. 

No – He is here for a purpose, as am I, even if the only purpose is to leave. Only a couple of days ago, I had crumpled into my own sorrows, feeling as if there is no way I can ever get out of here alive, but with Anwar? I feel as if anything is possible with the safety of his tough hands and peaceful heart.

We will get out soon, this I believe wholeheartedly. We had been torn apart before, but this time we are not going to let that happen again, I saw the promise of this in his eyes. And as I cried silently to myself on the way back to my quarters, allowing the rain's own tears to camouflage mine, I listen to the whispering of Jorkhan's winds, that tell me something I had always known. 

Anwar and I were built to fall apart in the dangers of this world, but our desire to save each-other out of all of harm's way, was what made fate design us to fall back together. 

This place wasn't home, it was far from it – And neither were the orchards. No – My home was with Anwar and now, I am fuelled with the burning craving that is hungrier than the gnaw at the lining of Anwar's starving stomach... A hunger that will be fed soon enough when he and I do what we both desperately need to,

_Find our true home._


	17. Ruby Mayse

Along with the raging skies, the hope was only slowly crumpling like a soggy piece of paper, tethered on the sides and falling into spotty foldings of snow-like littering.

It had been two days since I had last seen Anwar, and despite my constant pleas to return back to the stables, it seems both the weather and Ruby, were battling each-other on who could be the greatest deterrent to my wishes.

The weather was out of my hands and along with everyone else's, so it was easy for me to not scold the sky nor punch at the windows where the water falls like autumn's petals alongside it.

But Ruby? She made my blood boil and my fists tighten whenever I was around her, because it seemed as if during the last two days, she was constantly finding tasks or teaching lessons in order to discourage me from having any-time to see the stables – It was almost as if in some twisted and sick fate, she new who Anwar was and what he meant to me.

Ruby asks questions in vain about Kylo Ren, wondering how he and I are getting along, and using her own gift that she had brought to me the day I had gotten here, I lied – Telling her that things are well and things are progressing in the fact that he surely has no idea about the royal deceit, leaving out the fact that my heart beats for another man, when I consider for a fact, that he may love the Princess that I imitate.

During those long and treacherous days, where I spent longing for the man who was so close, yet too far away, I relished in all things golden, boasting in the memory of his golden hair that I should return to, any moment now when I find the chance to flick away Ruby, who sits by my side in the library, shifting through a collection of dusty novels or historian books that I may be interested in – Though, I always shake my head at whatever title she shows, returning my gaze back out the window, shortly after.

Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, the library was a grand space, where paintings lined the walls and pastel etchings of chubby babies and God's wrapped in silk, lined the roofing. The books wait to speak their words upon the thousands of wooden cases, their ink on papery leaves that will always stay, even though centuries may pass as the King's collection was entirely off keeping to the public, only a handful of people in the Kingdom were allowed to indulge in their letterings.

But even now, Ruby and I were the only people in here, sitting on a long oakwood table where the chairs on one half were plush, and tucked into the other-side of the table, was only a long stretching of seating with cushioning upon the wide windows that looked over the fields.

Gazing out to the tiny paddock and stable from up here, my soul whispers professions of love and schemes of felicity, but the pain of separation, however, is only alleviated upon my heart as I constantly fight back asking Ruby, for the thousandth time today, if I can go to the paddock.

Though, it seems my tongue was still capable of slipping past my grinding teeth, "Can I please go see my horse? I won't be long and I will wear a coat."

I turn back to Ruby and watch the way she sighs to a new title, glaring at its lettering instead of me, "I have told you that you can't today, the King and Kylo Ren are to be meeting us in here soon."

The pang of disgust and mixed apprehension sunk into my esteem as my shoulders dropped slowly and so did my hopes at the mention of seeing the King.

"Why are they both coming? And why must we be here?" I ask, my voice flat and bored as I let my eyes rest upon the ginger locks upon her head, which in this dark weather, seemed to flatten with her liveliness.

Her steady countenance that she laid bare into the long paragraphs of the novel she clung tightly onto, faded with the foreseen impatience in my snide and when she finally glanced to me with those icy blues, her mouth pursed into a thin and straight line as she flicked her gaze upon my features, particularly the birthmark.

Then tearing that gaze away, she turns back to the book and begins to read over the introduction for a third time as she says, "I have told you, the King has requested that he creates a bond with Kylo too – After all, Mr. Ren is going to be the future King of Jorkhan."

My stomach swirls in an unsatisfactory manner and all the nerves in my body spike to attention in a way that also brought the hair on the back of my neck to stand, purely at the addition of the next in line for the throne.

Swallowing down my sandpaper mouth, I struggled with the tying of my dry tongue, but eventually found the strength to ask the blunt girl,

"Has there been any news with the Princess' whereabouts?" I say, glancing around the empty library once but still bringing my words down to a whisper, "Are you any closer to finding her and returning her home?"

_As well as me._

It was not often that I had seen Ruby sprung off guard, stripped off of her hard exterior and armour of distant eyes, scowling features and high shoulders, and with my questioning, I didn't assume it to result in her dropping her greatest weapon... But it somehow did, as she sucked a sharp breath inwards and closed the binding of the book in her hands, not even marking her page before it was lost with the other hundreds.

Swallowing sharply and blinking over my question, a heavy but brittle tension forms in the air between us, almost staining my hands with belts that she gave with the harsh colouring around her eyes. Ruby shakes her head, "No – There's been nothing." She says softly, and I part my lips to speak, but she cuts me off and leaves the conversation bare, "And I don't think they will find anything soon either."

My heart plummets to the deepest ends of Jorkhan, mixing in with the lava and hardening to a damaged crisp, "W-What?" I stutter.

Intense dismay, becomes the embers of my burning sorrow in that same lava that my heart scorches into. Ruby doesn't think they will find her soon, what does that even mean?

Panic also builds quickly. I can't stay here any longer, the wedding is almost four weeks away!

Ruby doesn't answer. I bite back with another question, my fists curling tightly beneath the table in which she sat across from me,"What do you mean?"

Ruby contemplates for a moment, her eyes flickering all around my features and then the room, as if she was trying to find an answer around. I furrow my brows and become perplexed in her sudden silence, but when she sees the expression forged on my face, she fakes a tight smile and says,

"The rains, they are making it hard to search for her lately." She explains, as if it was the first thing that had come truely to her mind – But it so obviously, wasn't.

That smile. It was all so fake. The type of fake smile that I had seen her give to me a thousand times before, only in those cases, she was using it to mask the bitter words she was spitting.

Suddenly, I realise something.

Whilst her defences had been stripped bare, I was somehow able to look through her words and she the truth that her weary body portrayed.

She was hiding something.

I stared into Ruby's eyes, silently and determined not to look away first. I was certain that she was trying to hide something behind the clarity of her blue orbs, but still she was determined to fool me as she blinked away the glassy layer and narrowed them.

"W-What?" She stuttered, much like I had a couple of seconds before this deceitful one.

Ruby then, contorted her lips into an awkward, toothy smile, but her cheeks were not so compromising as they paled so much, the freckles looked like ink. I could almost feel her reluctance to be moulded falsely as she straightened her back even more against the back of the chair when it was clear I wasn't going to respond.

When Ruby finally averted her gazed, the smile fell lifeless, allowing her face to return to its usual, cold hard gawk.

I saw it in the scolding. Almost with as much clarity as Kylo Ren can read my emotions.

It feels like a welded knife is being twisted in my abdomen and is injecting coal into my bloodstream. The agony I was subdued to, was everlasting waves that crashed upon my untouched soul to unknowable depths, thrashing upon my skin and staining its grip there as the realisation becomes a raging tsunami to my fire.

"You know where she is." I mutter in sudden and bask understanding, not saying it in a questioning tone like before but rather a phrase that seeped into the thick tension like acid and cut it in half crisply.

Ruby gasped low below her breath, her pale lips trembling as she shakes her head, almost too quickly.

"No." She tried to deadpan, but it was too late, I had already caught her and she knew, the crimson that began to rage around her neck was only another, dead give-away.

"You're lying." I spit, narrowing my eyes and flinching.

"I'm not." She continued to shake her head, whilst her hands began to grip around the oakwood table, the fingernails grazing lines into the gloss.

The torture throbs in my gut, deep and warm, but slicing at the same time. It feels like someone has their hand in there and is squeezing my insides first gently as a warning and then as tightly as they can.

She knew where the Princess was! And yet, I am still here.

Why?

Now mimicking her, I shake my head in disbelief of my own realisation. It just didn't make any sense, but it was potently true.

"Yes, you are!" I snap, the anger building in my chest like the lightening in the clouds behind me. I slam my hands upon the table and the contents above it rattle as much as my voice shakes my heart violently, "Where is she? Why am I still here if you know her whereabouts?!"

With red burning skin and hair of dying fire, Ruby shrunk in her seat and glanced with terrified eyes to the doors, "Keep your voice down, the King will be here any minute." She held a finger out to silence me, but it shook and paled before me.

Anger boils in my system as if it is the vexing of my burning soul. Like the rushing of blood to my reddening cheeks, my veins feel as if they could explode any moment if I don't let it all out in an act of violence. I had never been a violent person, but as I breathed in and out, the air wouldn't enter my lungs.

I wanted to hit her. I wanted to tug on her hair and sob more tears than the skies did. I had so many questions like, _how long had she known_ , _how long did she expect I would stay here?_ But starved for air, my heart only raced at tremendous speeds, and my lungs shallowly rose and fell in time.

I want to scream.

"Fuck the King!" I succumb to my burning desire, "You know where the Princess is and you aren't telling the King, why?"

I stand to my feet, forgetting about the calming sight outside the window and lean across the table to prove my anger as it resembled the way it had the day I almost laid my fists against her in the dining hall, across from empty plates – But this rage was a full course meal, and although I had been starved my whole life, this was something that I could peck upon for years.

Ruby shook her head, glancing away as gloss began to glaze over her eyes and she pursed her lips tightly shut, locking them away it seems. I only continue, thinking about all the reasons that could be deserving of risking your life to hide-away the Princess, her best-friend, and there was a lot. But one came to my mind before anything else.

"Because you don't want her to marry Kylo Ren?" I snap, my chin beginning to wobble also, "Well guess what? I don't want to marry him either, but it seems I don't have a choice!"

Suddenly, Ruby's eyes turn cold and harsh, but there's still a sadness brewing beneath her next words that smack me across the face with the brutality of them,

"Would you for one second – Just act grateful for anything we have given you?!" She stands, pushing the books off of the table and to the floor. I flinch, she only continues, "To say that you were born from nothing, you sure act like a spoilt brat!"

My face fell, but hardened quicker than the time it took for shock to seep into my veins.

My mind was a surging perplexity, whilst her words hit my burning skin like a thousand of needle pricks being thrown against me. I blink in shock, my perception distorted.

Only then, I huff a small laugh and shake my head shortly,

"Well, it sure is a good thing that you won't have to be seeing me anymore..." I say slowly, giving her a sad but sarcastic smile.

She furrows her brows.

"What?" She asks, giving me a daring glare.

I swallow my anger curtly, replacing it with a much more sinister emotion – One that I hadn't learnt from her, but someone much crueler. Kylo Ren.

The man who had constantly threatened me and hung things laced with guilt over my head to get me to do the things he wanted. And for once, I was grateful that it was him who had shown me something so dangerous.

"I'm telling the King that you're keeping secrets." I threaten her, my words dipped in acid and spat upon her with downturned lips.

There's a delicious second where everything goes quiet as she lets those brutal words seep into her veins and I bask in the dumbfounded shine of her face. But then, all at once and suddenly, she erupts into a ferocious boast of laughter.

I suck a sharp breath in, becoming completely taken aback in her reaction.

"Why are you laughing?" I snap.

She only continues to chuckle. Loud and boisterous, the same type of laughter that would come out of her when she was intoxicated by rich wine and interlocked around her even richer companions. I swallow nervously, me now falling to become the dumfounded one.

When her laughter finally withdraws, it doesn't fade away like most laughter does, but instead, just cuts short. Stopping all at once, as she rests a glaring look upon me, hooded eyes and a twitching smirk at the corner of her thin lips.

"The King won't believe you." She cracks upon my heart, the same way a whip would lash upon my flesh back at the orchards, "Why would he believe you – A peasant girl, who's only job is to lie? Over me, the most trusted person with the Princess?"

I scoff.

I seem to hate a lot of people in this kingdom, but Ruby had just shot to first place.

I know the hatred only guarantees more enmity, more pain – But the hatred is all I can hold onto like a dark flame, burning cold in my chest as I will never be able to do anything about it. The hatred is only a mask for my emotional trauma.

"I don't know," I tilt my head to the side and try to contain every little piece of strength I had left, balling them together and packing them into my punching words, "Why is it that you keep her tucked away so secretly? Actually – Save it. You can tell him why yourself."

She chuckles shortly again, standing up and circling around the table to meet me. I only cower away, but when I find myself resembling a predator's prey, I cling onto that ball of strength and confidence and close the distance, this time making her create more as she backs away and spits,

"There's no point in you snitching, you won't win this battle, no matter how hard you try."

I chuckle, the same way she did. Forgetting about the King's and Kylo's soon arrival, and only letting her fall into my point of view.

"And why not?" I ask cooly, biting the inside of my cheek to not just smack away the smirk upon her pale face.

She tilts her head too, letting her red hair fall over her shoulders as her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, as if she was a snake, licking her lips before she consumes me – The mouse.

"Is it really worth the risk, telling the King about something so ludicrous?" Ruby draws slowly, playing with her meal, "After all, I am sure he will believe my reasoning for your outburst, rather than your own words." She narrows her eyes, holding a hand to her heart and faking a pity for me.

I bite so hard, down onto the already, torn flesh of my cheek, soon tasting the metallic of blood that only fuels the anger within me.

"And what is your reasoning?" I clench my nails into my palms, ready to pack a punch onto her if needed, "Spit it out – Enlighten me."

Ruby bites onto her bottom lip, the apple's of her cheeks turning a light pink in her content. It's as if she was never scared, only seconds ago – Our emotions slowly and torturously, swapping in this power-move.

"Don't you think that it is a bit unfortunate that the moment you are begging to go home to the King, you will only begin to spit your lies about me upon the throne, the very week that you find your lover from home has been moved to the palace? A righteous coincidence, I say..." She laughs, her eyes demanding a protest in her victory.

All anger that once raged in my body, fell as flat as my face did.

My heart sprung for saviour. My skin crawling like a million of fire-ants are biting upon it and nesting into the cooling blood below.

Tears burst forth, out of my eyes like a newly sprung leak, unknowingly, even though I hadn't yet blinked since she finished her snide.

She knew she had won, cocking an eyebrow up and chuckling some more as she ran a finger along the oakwood table, keeping her gaze upon me,

"What was his name again? Anwar?" Ruby licks over, pronouncing his name wrong but it didn't matter, she still knew exactly who he was, and that was dangerous – She proved this to be true, as she continued, "I am sure the King would be delighted to string him up along the walls of the Kingdom with the execution of trying to kidnap the Princess – I mean, that is a better reason than stringing you both up for trying to frame me for something, _I clearly haven't done."_

Ruby saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it and a small smile played on her lips.

With the picture of Anwar hanging so brutally and undeservingly against the side of the walls, his blood seeping to the ground upon the people's heads, I am left feeling so incredibly hurt by her words – Harsh like knives, coated by poison in an extraordinary sort of passion, but she delivers them in such a sinister way, offering a smile afterwards as a reward.

She was as evil, if more, than Kylo Ren.

She scanned my face for a reaction, and the silence in the library hung in the air like a suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. She expected me to crumple, wail or succumb into a sloppy mess of tears and I wanted to, but I did none of those things.

I am stuck here forever. I was too numb to dwell.

"You're a monster." I simply say, she shakes her head.

"I'm not a monster, I am just trying to keep Jorkhan the way it is."

I shake my head, sniffling and letting my voice croak in this awful heartache, "The First Order will bring death to Jorkhan." I mutter, knowing the Order's plans with the people of Jorkhan, but she didn't care for my people, she clearly only cared for the richest, who would be least affected.

She gives a shiny smile, her teeth gleaming even brighter than the jewels upon my crown – Which, I fret will be my crown forever.

"Well, at least the Princess and I will always know, that it was not her fault." She says, licking her lips again and ending it with, "It was the dirty-slum girl's."

My chin trembles. I was lost to understand from where this defence purely comes from inside such a timid and frail body, but it seemed beneath the pale flesh of her's, was the devil himself. In this indifference and authority, she made sure not to let any power reside in me, whilst also not giving any information away of satisfaction, in which I could steal.

Closing and then, opening my eyes, my surroundings had shifted into a darker haze and everything suddenly changed, I could still hear each of my seething breaths, rasping just the same as when I would run for too long, but my heart wasn't beating fast in tiredness but rather defeat, as if I was only withdrawing for the saving of my thin life, and now, Anwar's too.

There was hope before. But Ruby Mayse, had stomped on it and let it crush beneath the heal of her boot into tiny, little pieces, which I could never glue together to completion. I was nothing, and even now, she brought me down to nothing as she continued to remind me,

"You know what they say about the peasants of Jorkhan..." She begins, but I have already had enough – Cursing to the soon, arrival of the King and my true betrothed and sobbing upon the realisation that I will never be the person I truely am, ever again.

I shove passed her and make my way out of the library as the sadness builds inside me.

"– They are the dirty fingerprints upon the world's golden glory." Ruby only calls out to me, letting her shoulders fall comfortably as she brushes her skirt casually and sits back down, saying one last thing to me, before I push open the exit's doors and wail in my intense sadness as the rains only cry harder, as if it was a competition.

"So go on, run to your little, grimy boyfriend!" She laughs sickly, "For if you truely are ignorant enough to tell the King anything, I am sure today will be your last moments with him... Forever."

It is my tears that keep my soul alive in the furnace of this pain. They cannot extinguish what has been, yet only carry me forward to a place that my heart truely needs. The searing pain of Ruby's last words, hit against the glass of the library doors, and it is distant enough to forget more than remember, and maybe erase itself from my eternity of fears, but I know this realisation has just shifted my destiny in such a demolishing way – As if I was a fish in a plastic bag and she was the little girl who shakes me till I die.

The clouds that gather, a silver-fade, from the strongest of grey to soft whites, have command of the skies today and will for the rest of the week it seems, killing the soil just as evenly as my soul had just been buried.

It sloshes past my feet and sinks into my boots that sprint across the grass, as my hair sinks and flattens along my face and skin.

I sob harder. With no mercy or kindness, a single and final sentence would burn my hollow soul into a being of nothingness. Within those eyes, I only saw the figure of a saviour, who proved the kindness of my world, no matter how violent it could be to me.

Anwar drops all the tools in his hands, to the muddy soil of the paddock and looks at me worried, not yet noticing the tears that mingle with the rain.

He calls out to me and when I am close enough he asks,

"What are you doing h–"

But I cut him off, falling into his wet chest, wrapping my arms around the soulful beat of his heart, which I am determined to keep alive, despite the torture.

And then, I press my lips to his forcefully and passionately. Sinking into the feeling of his warm and soft mouth against my own, it was something that I had dreamed of for years.

And yet, as I did it, all I could still picture was him hanging along the Kingdom walls, _dead._


	18. Rodents In The Riches

The rain plummets faster and harder to the ground, around the entanglement of our hearts which intertwine as close as our lips dance upon one another's.

The velvet feel of Anwar's lips are promising in the midst of a muddled realness, where reality had become something so drastic to the memory of our past. He is stunned for a moment, as I press my tender kiss to him, but it doesn't take long for his hands to drop whatever they hung onto, to then twine behind my back and pull me in closer.

His tongue tastes of the primal desire that had been buried deep, and with it he tells me that no matter how much time had passed, we were still connected within, but this is the closest he and I had ever been, as I embrace my inner-most vulnerabilities and embrace him, rather than hide away my romantic tendencies which fuelled off the greenery that spun in his eyes.

Unable to contain himself anymore, Anwar holds my head in his hands and pulls me further into a fiery and passionate kiss that heats even the icy chill of the sky. My hands work their way around his body, feeling each crevasse, each line along his perfect physique, where the starvation lingers beneath the beat of his heart that I wish to live inside of.

I hold onto his face the same way he does with me, but soon Anwar's hands venture over my newly curved body, exploring the extra pudge which my dress clung to, drenched.

After a while, we sharply pull away from each-other's warmth, welcoming a certain chill between us as the downpour only grows around the swell of my heart and my shivering frame, which he still clung to as I kept my hands laid upon his panting chest.

We stare at to one another for a brittle moment, both acknowledging the shock that stunned both of our features.

I stand frozen, from both fear and excitement. Anwar, with his golden hair sticking to his tan skin of bones, leans in, so my forehead now rests against his. I close my eyes, listening to the thunder which has no chance against the shaking of our breath.

"W-What was that?" He asks in barely more than a whisper.

I suck a sharp breath inwards, dropping my head to lay upon his chest as I pull him into a tender hug. I watch the way the mist of my heated breath, lingers into the tension, mixing in with his own, "Something that I have wanted to do for a long time." I utter, laying myself as bare as I had once for Kylo Ren – But Anwar shall never know of that happenstance.

"Then... Thank you." He replies, his voice low and husky. I smile to the sensual beat of his heart – Forgetting momentarily about all my worries from before _. Ruby Mayse. The Princess. Kylo Ren. The King._

"Thank you." My voice wavers, exhilarated from the tension between us. My heart is hurtling into the skyline, singing a new song to the grey clouds and warming up the skin that his hands wrapped around, when they glided to my forearms and pulled himself away.

I assist in pulling apart and we both take shaky, shallow breaths, but his hands stay upon me. Now both lost, deep into each-other's eyes. Mine, full of wonder and love, Anwar's full of curiosity and passion. No words are spoken but a story worthy of us is communicated by the soaring beat of our hearts.

He glides his green eyes to the golden crown upon my head, which seemed to weigh down the drenched hair that clung to my face beneath it, dripping as furiously as the clouds did.

Anwar's eyes bleed into a hurting colour, "What have they done to you?" His lips frown.

My chin wobbles at his voice, but it's the words that send my mind roaring back over my reality, once again.

The grief came in waves and threatened to consume my wellbeing entirely. It was like a silent whisper of a demon which tapped on my shoulder and reminded me of the mind swirling happenings that my life had become in the fate of both horrible and lustful weeks.

Before Anwar's eyes, I was at the mercy of its whims and it hit me with such ferocity that I feared it would leave me an empty shell which only shook briskly in the wind of sorrows.

I can never discard the feeling of emptiness in me, a shear of nothingness that somehow takes over and holds onto my soul and threatens to kill me entirely, just for the feeling of guilt at the warmth that resides deeply at the memory of being intertwined with Kylo Ren, whilst Anwar holds onto me in a way that should have been the only thing I thought about this second.

I swallow roughly and my body is replaced by a heavy feeling that is like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders and there is nothing I can do to get out from under it, but then I realise that this feeling isn't metaphorical, but all too real.

"The Princess went missing in the midst of an arranged marriage between her and Kylo Ren, of The First Order..." My eyes drop, my chin trembling as the sadness becomes overwhelming, "The King thought I looked the most like her, so I am forced to pretend to be her until she is found."

He looks stunned for a moment, furrowing his brows and tilting his soaked face to me, I continue, whilst my voice croaks and the tears ricochet into the gruelling fall of the rain.

"But Anwar! I don't think she will ever be found." I sob, as he pulls me into his chest. I couldn't believe that Ruby was hiding her all along... And yet, I couldn't even out her, for she had threatened the death of the man in my arms.

"Shh..." He sighs, patting the wet hair of mine, uncaring of the weather that swayed our bodies side-to-side, like a ballet of our tender voices, "Don't worry, I came to find you, and you don't understand how happy I am to be with you again."

I pull away and he gives me that smile that I have needed for so long. Suddenly, I want to pluck a paintbrush out of thin air and paint that grin to hang next to all the nonchalant and dreary portraits that lined the palace walls – Something much brighter for the darkness.

Anwar continues, shaking his head and rubbing the back of my neck with one hand whilst his other dropped to my lower back, "I knew something was wrong the moment all the girls were returned to the orchards... All but you."

My mouth parts to allow the taste of the world's tears that brewed in the concoction of my own, which laid upon my dry tongue.

If Anwar was any brighter in this cold gleam, his green eyes would substitute for the emeralds upon my golden crown. His eyes against his skin looks just right. He's a stark difference to Kylo Ren, the pale and brute of a man, who at times was so aggressive and at others, so tenderly and soft. I shake my head, wondering why the Apprentice always seemed to flood my thoughts as quickly as the rainfall flooded the grass around our feet.

I ignore the slosh of my socks in my boots as I adjust myself to stare intently to Anwar, my face turning as serious and needing as my tone did,

"Anwar, I've got to get out of here –" I lick my lips, putting pressure onto both of his wrists, "The union between Jorkhan and The First Order is destructive, the Order will ravage upon our resources and command the weakest of us into slavery. I have to leave this place before the wedding, which is only in a few weeks."

I look further into his eyes and his passion can't quite mask the hurt at the sense of betrayal that he feels at the mention of me being wedded unwillingly to someone whom I do not love. Suddenly, it becomes very clear to me, that this will be one of my last chances to try and cling onto the hope of escaping my fabricated and imitated fate which wasn't intended for me. I could lose Anwar forever, but there is nowhere I will go, without him.

Anwar's hand drops from the back of my neck, falling to my upper arm lightly as he gave me a dazed look. Furrowing my brows as suddenly, his gaze had begun to look right through me as if he was stuck in his own head for a moment.

"So the rumours are true..." He breathes, breaking out of his own thoughts to give me a deep stare as his features became soft.

"What?" I ask.

He gulps, giving my arm a squeeze just as I apply more pressure to his wrists, in order to urge him to continue. His mouth drops ever-so-slightly, his lips ever-so pink.

"You have no idea do you?" He leans in closer, his eyes wide but the creases upon his forehead, knitted in perplexity. What he says next, throws me off my balance completely, maddening my senses and sending a noose around my neck in dread, just as the reflected gold crown of mine, began to ring around his pupils.

"The streets are in riots, the slums are burning down the town. There was talk that The First Order were considering enlisting the poorest citizens, who have nothing else but the choice to agree to join the Order."

My heart aches and my lungs suddenly feel empty, all at once, the happiness in his features and the swell of my chest, has disappeared leaving an all-too-familiar strain in their place.

"And they're rioting in a protest?" I whisper slowly, furrowing my brows further into each-other.

"Yes." He said. I swallowed my sandpaper mouth, despite the tears and water that flooded the gape.

Finally tearing my eyes away from him, I glanced all around the empty and soaked fields of the paddock, testifying with the realisation as I muttered,

"Then, we have got to leave sooner than I thought."

Anwar flinches slightly,

"We? Leave?" He questions.

I turn back to him, ready to snap, but I catch the glint in his eyes as he flickers them upon my lips. I hate myself for smiling in this suspended moment,

"Yes, that's why you came isn't it?" I question lightly, but there's a fearful tune in my voice that soon stretches slower as I notice the serious expression he displayed, "... To get me out?"

Anwar shakes his head, glancing up and down my shivering frame with wild, emerald eyes, his cheeks still rosy from our already, forgotten kiss, "I came here to see if you were alive, and by the looks of you, you are beyond alive." He chimes, referring to the extra weight and glow I had taken as a totem of my new status.

I shake my head, my features contorting as I try to backpedal my previous words, whilst I also pulled slightly away from him.

_What does he mean?_

"So, why are you acting surprised? Did you only come back to check up on me?" I suddenly snap, my fingers curling tighter around his wrists, only to them thrash them out of my grip in sudden panic, "No – Anwar, you're helping me get out of here, you have to!"

Our voices slightly raise over the sound of thrashing skies, and there's a fearful emotion that eats at my insides, as I suddenly feel trapped here with his next words,

"Listen! When I came here, I thought you were forced to be a slave or something," He said, shaking his head in bewilderment,"But by some ridiculous twist of fate, you have turned into the Princess of Jorkhan – Soon to be Queen! Don't you get this?" He finishes in a gentler tone.

His hands reach out to me, but I feel betrayed by them in this sudden moment.

"What are you trying to say, Anwar?" I demand, refusing to look away as his face drops to my voice.

He swallows roughly, and I watch the lump in his throat bob.

"I'm trying to say, that you are in the most powerful position you will ever be in," Anwar nods, taking a step towards me and forcing my hands into his, despite my thrash.

He holds my white knuckles to his lips and pecks it once, I stop. He sighs against the cold flesh, continuing, "You, a mere girl from the rioting slums, have become the leash between Jorkhan and The First Order... And with that very power, you can use it for good."

I tut, "Anwar, I am not the Princess, I am only dressed like her... There is no power among this crown." I try to persuade him, hoping that there's still something in him that will just give up and say he will sneak me out of here, and then Jorkhan, but there was always a fire in this golden man, a fire that burned for more glorious things for the benefit of all, not some.

"Maybe not." He shakes his head, holding my hands now to his heart as if it was a symbol for the brewing rebellion behind these tall gates of the Kingdom, "But the people of Jorkhan do not know of that."

"I still don't understand what you are asking from me." I close my eyes, trying to blink away the tears, "Please, Anwar – Just take me home."

He drops my hands, moving my face to him with his cold fingers upon my trembling chin that he brushed lightly with the rain,

"There will be no home to return to." Anwar sighs, holding his gaze into mine, "But if you marry Kylo Ren, the people of Jorkhan won't stop the resistance. There's more power and desire surging in their blood than the Order's."

My stomach twists, "You want me to marry Kylo Ren?" I ask, dumbfounded, moving my face out of his hands. Suddenly, a resenting feeling burns a hallow and torturous ache into my chest. What happened to that moment, only minutes ago, where he kissed me back to passionately? And now what, he's begging me to marry Kylo Ren, in hopes of a rebellion?

"Anwar, the people of Jorkhan will not win a rebellion against The First Order, it will be safer to just flee." I bite, my lips curling inwards.

Suddenly, the two of us are miles apart in our minimal space. What happened to the best-friends who ate chocolate upon a hill? For now, one plans a war, whilst the other, _if I agree_ , will assist in the crumbling of the world, by the hands of the enemy, who will wear a matching ring.

"Safe?" Anwar utters, "Safer how? Safer to starve? Slave away for The First Order?" He rhetorically barks, his eyes turning gentle when he notices me flinch.

"You and I, have never been safe, neither have those people who riot." He soothes, "But now, you have the chance to give them an opportunity to rebel. All this time, we have just needed a reason to fight, and this is it. It's time for an uprising, it's time to eradicate the Order from our home."

My heartache rung me out until I was dry inside. My insides still felt as raw as if a winter wind was blowing right through my skin. All that he said, was as if he was leeching on the hope I held, until I had none anymore.

His words were true, but I could never agree, no matter how beautiful a future without The First Order seemed in my own mind.

"Stop, Anwar." I begin to cry, shaking my head, "I want the same things you do, but I cannot marry Kylo Ren. I cannot keep this act up anymore."

All at once, Anwar pulls me into a kiss once more and all the breath in my lungs is rasped into his mouth. He kissed me again and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb caressing my tear-stained cheek, and when he pulled away our misty breaths mingled.

He twines a wet strand of my hair, behind my ear and I coo at the touch, despite the battle we fought. Anwar licks his lips, relishing in the flavour of mine.

"You know that I love you," He says, rather than asked and I gasp quietly at the sudden shift, falling limp in his hands, "Therefore, I will never let anything bad happen to you –" He explained, but I only became mute, as if the shock had grasped onto my tongue and tied it into a knot.

"– I promised you, that I would take you away from this world, if I could ever afford it." Anwar sighed, and I recalled that day perfectly at the mention, "But I will never be able to afford to save you, though that doesn't mean I won't take every chance I get, to make this world a better place to stay in... And this is our chance."

His shoulders fall limp by his sides and his lips become as rosy as his neck does too. With trembling hands reaching out to mine, I want to hold them but I can't, and the tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down my face.

"But what happens when I am tied to The First Order in the rebellion?" I whisper, but he only makes my fears fade away with the warm touch of his coarse hands upon mine.

"You won't be, trust me." His emeralds gleam, and in the shine, I wholeheartedly do.

I gulp roughly in the rain and nod my head. I sink into my defeat, desperate for comfort, but when Anwar pulls away, it seems he won't be surprising me with another kiss as I notice him shiver slightly for the first time.

"O-Okay." I tremble, defeated. But the touch of his lips is enough to earn a slight victory, "What am I supposed to do then?"

Anwar smiles, that same one before – But this time, I don't wish to remember the haunting happiness it showcased as my heart only plummeted into the soil beneath us, "You've got to just keep doing what you are now. Don't let Kylo Ren grow suspicious –" He says, sounding just like Ruby, _how uncanny._

"Even better, make him fall for you, I don't know..." He continues, growing excited as he picks up the stuff he had dropped to the floor when I kissed him, but it was only a clear bottle of white power which I couldn't figure out the purpose of, "If the monstrous, Kylo Ren, is able to grow feelings, maybe eventually, we can use that against him."

My heart swirls unceasingly. _Use that against him –_ What a cruel punishment, considered for a cruel man, but is he?

I shake my head for a second, only to then swap it to a quick nod, to avoid confrontation – I was already being swayed from my real desires to not involve myself, but if Anwar asked me of something, I knew I should serve to his request, he had saved my life numerous of times and now, he just wished to save the world I lived in, _supposedly._

Rain conjures an endless pattern upon my skin, the thousands of liquid globes reflecting the greenery of the darkening nature, becoming a welcomed shower to add to the heated senses as it becomes clear that we were soon parting ways.

"Just remember," He coos into my drenched hair as I bleed into the wet chest of his, "I'll always be here for you, despite how secretive we will have to be..."

I smile weakly into his shirt, even if he couldn't see the falsity of my eyes, "O-Okay," I repeat, then adding a hint of playfulness to try and remind me of the friendship that I prayed was still there, "Make sure to to take care of my horse, I will be checking."

He pulls away, chuckling, "Of course –" He then bows, tucking his arm into his stomach as he does so, the hand holding the bottle, flying out behind him, "Princess." Anwar adds.

I laugh, but the happiness isn't swirling as tenderly as I had hoped. Then furrowing my brows to the bottle in his hands, I asked, "What's that?"

Lifting the bottle in the air, the cap was tightly shut and the white powder inside was ever dry, unlike us, "This?" He rolls his eyes, giving me a sarcastic smirk, as if we hadn't just spoken about tearing down an Empire, "The palace is having a rodent infestation, its rat poison."

My gaze falls to the white powder, and this time, I actually find the funny side to this whole fate, "How rude." I smile to the golden boy, who I had pressed my lips onto, moments before, "The rich are always finding new ways to insult people like us..."

His smile only widens and he tilts his head to the side, "I know," Anwar sighs playfully, "But I do say, rodent is a new insult that I hadn't heard before."

After a collection of friendly laughter, it seemed as if he had forgotten about the kiss, so casually, but it was replaying over and over in my mind. And as I walked lonesome back to my quarters, I fretted for a moment, that he may have used the kiss as a masquerade to beacon me onto his side – _But Anwar wouldn't do that to me... Would he?_

The raindrops are falling in millions, cascading from a confident and saddened sky to drench my hair, skin and clothes. It is the sort of weather that washes everything anew, bringing deep puddles, but my soul doesn't feel as whole as it should have been slated by the clouds.

I wondered for a second, if Anwar now considered me of just another product of the slum's resistance, or a tying to the Royals. The unfairness of the whole situation, fills me with rage. But it's mixed up with that same fear from before, over what kind of destruction a war could rage upon this planet... And sadly, my bets were still on Kylo Ren and The First Order – Only, I felt like I was being stretched thin between both sides.

The moment the roofing of the palace's hallways finally leave my skin bare of fresh water, is when I realise I am sobbing and salty tears now flood my cheeks. The sadness drained through me rather than skating over my skin.

I calm myself slightly in my roaring but silent, tears on the way back to my quarters, reminding myself that rebellions don't just happen in a day, and wars aren't brutal in seconds, just to try and soothe them.

I feel like my life has become just me balancing on broken branches that fight a windy battle, leaving me to fall frozen to the ground, peering up at the eyes that add insult to my injury – But when I finally walk into the quarters, those brown eyes are already peering towards me and a muffled worry comes to my ears as his leathered hands try to warm, my equally leathered and numb flesh. 

I want to feel that feeling that I felt when I kissed Anwar, before he began talking, for that was the most alive I have felt in weeks, but his talk of rebellion only killed me once again.

The floor seems to be caving in beneath my feet and the lights are now suddenly too bright. All perception of time becomes distorted and everything slows down until there is nothing; Nothing but Kylo, who stood inches in front of me with a worried gaze.

_"If the monstrous Kylo Ren is able to grow feelings, maybe eventually we can use that against him."_ Anwar's voice flooded my mind, once again – But that wasn't what I was basing my next choices off of as I melted into the warm eyes before me.

I'm tied between two, completely different worlds. I am a rodent in the riches.

But my heart was in desperate need for saviour, and I once thought Anwar was going to be that person to do so, but even he had failed me – And although I know Kylo Ren isn't a hero and I never would entrust my faith in his big, crushing hands, I still recalled the way he could easily take away the pain for a short moment.

Like intoxication or a drug in the shape of a subdue, I need the stretching pain to go away as I deeply worried about fates and future wars.

My lips brush his. Not innocently, like a tease but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. I want to pull away before I lose myself but I can't seem to, for it is so different to the way Anwar kissed me back, but still needed never-less.

In this lustful and desperate moment, my senses have been seduced and I can no longer think straight, not even caring for the guilt that tries to scratch the name of Anwar into the crimson of my heart.

Tears still slide down my rosy and trembling cheeks, my heart fluttering at his voice as I clasp my hands on either side of his face.

"Princess," Kylo Ren whispers slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savour them incase he ended up just like the starving and _rioting_ , slum people...


	19. Supreme Leaders

It is hard to stay still when my heart is beating incredibly fast and the flesh where he curls his hand so softly around my thigh, is burning to a crisp. 

The paint strokes are the loudest thing in the room, other than my own heart of course, and with the bristles that scrape the white-canvas, the artist paints Kylo and I, perfectly, or so it seems from this angle, as we sit side-by-side, pretending to be made of stone as she conveys our reflection with pastel and longing stares. 

I am certain, not even her art can convey the chaos inside my conflicted mind, for inside I am brewing a clashing swarm of emotions, which colour's are vivid and burning, almost to the point of garish. 

There's a deep violet inside, a stormy purple the same as the roaring sky and it bleeds its paint inside me with a nervous and guilty hue, based on the events from two days ago, where Anwar suggested that I stay in my imitated position, in close attempts to take down The First Order, thanks to the suspicion of a rebellion.

But there's also a pastel pink that wraps around that feeling, pinching my flesh that same colour as Kylo Ren sits by my side and lives cost-free in my brain. He seemed to be always flooding my mind, as if he was manifesting my thoughts, himself. 

It's a ferocious cling of antagonism and conflict that results with him bringing a passion hotter than a thousand suns, whilst the reminder of Anwar and his words, are only the whispers of why I shouldn't lust after him, the way I currently do.

I hate myself internally, for I know I should desire Anwar, the way I do with Kylo Ren. But it seems they both are pulling me in different directions, or holding onto different hands that grip onto them with different needs. 

The romantic need, perishes away with the longing for Anwar's love. But Kylo Ren has owned the desire and fed my sexual hunger, with every moment spent.

Two very different things, and yet, they should be craving the same individual, but I don't. 

The rain still thrashed as dangerously as my inner hauntings, and the woman who painted us moved like the true artist she was, her eyes taking in more details than the average person, her limbs almost dancing even when she walked to get more paint upon her pallet.

When I first introduced myself, she gave me a weary look, but the birthmark that had been drawn on my skin with a type of staining ink, _one much different to the wipe-away pastels upon her pallet,_ was my saviour always, and it kept her from growing suspicious to my change of voice or perhaps the exiled gleam from my eyes. 

It had been already, an hour and a half of staying so still, careful to change positions and ruin her portrait that would be revealed to the Kingdom people on the day of my, _supposed birthday banquet_ , in a couple of days, where then it will be hung right beside the King's terrifying painting, as Ruby had told me this morning, with dead eyes that matched her dry tone – As we both pretended the last time we had met, hadn't happened at all. For two very different reasons though. 

I still hated her for keeping the Princess locked away from her fate and forcing me to complete it instead, but I only left it now, for Anwar's life, and the request he had asked of me, on behalf of the rioting people of Jorkhan. I just hope when the time comes, one day, I will be able to take the chance to leave this dreadful place and lifestyle – No matter how much the man beside me, tried to make me feel at home in his strong arms at night. 

Suddenly, the door to the left opens, breaking both Kylo and I, out of our streak of standing so still for so long, as we both turn to see who had interrupted the silence. 

It was a raging, orange flame of hair that walked in, making even the sunny colours of the artist's paints jealous, and for a split second, a dread flooded my blood and sunk my bones, but when my eyes dropped to the crisp suit and thin lips, I calmed somewhat when I realised it wasn't the scowling face of Ruby, but instead the glaring eyes of General Hux. 

He walks straight into the set-up scene, of the two throne chairs that sit by one another, completely ignoring me and walking to Kylo's side to mutter something incoherent into his ear, whilst his gloved hand slid off my thigh for a moment, leaving the artist to roll her eyes from behind her easel. 

Then leaving with a nod and the same glare upon his face, he leaves just as quickly as he had arrived, and Kylo Ren only sighed and returned his hand back to my thigh.

I clear my throat with the return of his touch above the long dress that I wore, refusing to acknowledge the flutter that swarmed my stomach. Adjusting myself to the same features and position that I was in before Hux's appearance, I glance back with bored eyes to the front of the room and speak softly to the man beside me, whilst also trying to keep the movement of my lips to a minimal.

"What was that about?" I ask, side glancing to the raven-haired man. 

Kylo Ren shrugged, uncaring for the artist's vision, it seems, 

"The rain." He simply said.

I huffed a small breath of laughter and rolled my eyes, "Is General Hux The First Order's weather man?"

The deadpanned features of his suddenly caved and for a moment, I was surprised that it was my doing for the chuckle and smile which had the potential to ruin the portrait which hung on the easel, portraying those strong eyes he often gave.

"No – He doesn't have the charisma to do that job." He chuckles, then trying to keep his smirk at bay, "He was just informing me on the impact that the rain is having to the land and vegetation."

I would furrow my brows in confusion if I could, but it isn't the portrait which makes me refrain, it is the sudden pang in my heart at the feeling that I will never see the orchards or vegetation that he spoke of, again. 

"How come?" I question, "Why does The First Order care for the vegetation?"

He sighs at my questioning, probably much preferring my silence from before instead. 

"Because the vegetation is a prime income that fuels Jorkhan's economy." He explains, not knowing why or not feeling how his words send a sharp strike into my chest, "Though it seems Jorkhan is loosing its value."

The orchards are loosing their value? Is that because of the uprising? The slaves were the key scheme in how Jorkhan made so much money from their produce. The people from the slums were easy to pay, because they couldn't complain for the little cents they got, for they were comparing it to nothing. And then after harbouring so much hard labour off of them, the produce was sold to the rich or largely traded to other planets. 

I wondered for a second, what would I be doing right now, if I wasn't forced into this position? And it only keeps me hanging onto Anwar's side, no matter how torturous, because I can easily picture myself burning down the rich, in the midst of the ash of my starving bones. 

I clear my throat once more, "Why is it loosing value?" I persist. 

Kylo's hand grips my thigh tighter and his leather gloves make a twining sound as he does so, whilst I notice his eyes flickering to me in his peripherals as that smirk stays ever-present. 

"The rain." He repeats coyly. 

I smile at the smirk upon his face but wipe it clean, keeping my voice quiet compared to the brush-strokes and the pattering rain.

_Why was General Hux even informing Kylo about the trade and economy?_

"So what?" I chime, "The First Order doesn't wish to claim Jorkhan without the valuable soil?"

I fretted for a moment, that the pitch of my voice seemed almost excited at the idea, hopeful that maybe The First Order wouldn't deem Jorkhan a worthy land where they can steal the money and soil from for their much more dangerous intentions – But Kylo only shakes his head and shifts in his seat for a second. It was possible that his feet was becoming as numb as mine had become.

"No – No." He says, with his deep and rough voice that would often melt my blood like soft butter, "There's still other resources that we can utilise, and the population of course – There's already an overwhelming flood of people that have enlisted."

Lies. It sends a cold shiver down my spine, which not even the coarse leathering of his hands could remove. 

I can see the riots now perfectly. The First Order were already forcing the strongest of the helpless into helmets and conditioning. Many slave's bodies were strong in the fields and orchards, despite the rumbling of their stomachs and I am certain that The Order came courting as easily as the King had sent some of his soldiers, _who wear the same armour,_ to collect all the girls who look similar to the way I do. 

I'm only struggling as to whether I think that The First Order had forced them into enlistment with force, violence and bribery, or if instead they delivered a practised thievery of words that imaged heroism and glory, beaconing in the generous spirits only to twist them into haunted shells, who are too riddled with trauma and stress, that they cannot even find the strength to leave what tortures them into soldiers.

There's a sudden gloss that arrives above the colour of my eyes and I am glad that from this position, Kylo cannot see the tear which slides down my left cheek, although I pray that the artist doesn't paint it. 

I shake my head, ever-so-slightly, forgetting momentarily what Anwar's directions were – To act normal and to not make Kylo grow suspicious, but I have always been blatant with my distaste for The Order with him, so I didn't care so much when I said,

"Jorkhan won't be the same after the shift in power, I am certain some will revolt." 

Kylo breathes a loud breath out of his prominent nose and twines his grip closer around my thigh. For a moment, it seemed as if he was just ignoring my words, already bored of my protests and wishing the silence a welcomed return, but then, he drops into another set of chuckling, only to reply with, 

"Doesn't matter anyway, I am certain you and I won't be here much after the wedding." He says. 

This breaks my stillness, forcing me to turn to him quickly and furrow my brows,

"What?" I nearly bark, "Why not?"

When Kylo's eyes turn to me, I snap my face back to the front of the room and he does the same again. 

"Well... I have no plans for this planet, The First Order will find its value and find much trade in the new economy, so we shall just leave it up to The Supreme Leader." Kylo mutters, as if it was simple to understand.

My suspicions were true, The First Order really were going to strip this planet to a clean slate, stealing all the money and soil for their own benefit. They don't care for the people, and they don't care about the royalty aspect, they already have the most power in the galaxy.

But The Supreme Leader... Why would he take over the work to ravage Jorkhan, instead of leaving that task to the very man who was stealing the title of the ruler of the planet?

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion, stuttering my next words, "B-But, you will be the King?"

Kylo tuts, obviously bored, but not sceptical of my constant questions that I struck him with. Maybe he just thought of me to be curious? After-all, it was said that the real Princess didn't get much chances to see the real world nor the galaxy, no matter how much money she had.

"There are no individuals in The First Order, only hierarchy." Kylo Ren says and I listen intently to every word he spoke, hanging onto every little piece of information he gave as if I was starving for it.

His deep voice continues, "And our head of the hierarchy, is The Supreme Leader, so what ever is mine, is his – And until the day I become The Supreme, I will entrust Jorkhan in his hands, though you and I will still be the face or ambassadors as such."

Ambassadors. I suddenly realise with just that word, that I won't ever return to Jorkhan, but the people will still believe that the Princess who was born on this soil, never assisted in tearing it to bits, but was rather instead, just tied awfully into The First Order. 

My hands curl in my lap, just above where Kylo's fingers stay,

"So, what was the point in the proposal?" I add, "Why didn't the King just sign The Supreme Leader the deed to the planet and leave it at that?"

Kylo Ren thinks over my question for a short second, his thick eyebrows knitting together perfectly. I take this time to use my peripherals to relish in his handsomeness, but I would never tell him so. 

Prominent features like some sort of God, who was made out of stone, even his skin is the colour of marble which sinks into the deep richness of his dark hair. The rosy tinge of his lips, is what throws off the deadliness of him all, almost resembling his dangerous lightsaber, which he kept out by his belt for the portrait – So beautiful in the red gleam, but it's the deadly strike of crimson that will kill you. 

He swallows roughly, and I watch his Adam's apple bob as he does so, 

"Because like you said, the people will have a hard time adjusting, they will revolt." He rasps, "You are the only one keeping the people somewhat at bay, with the sense of history still being carried through, rather than stolen."

Revolt. History. Stolen. 

This is the most truthful he has ever been, and it stuns me so much that I glance at the back of the canvass with wide eyes, my mouth falling silent for the first time in a while.

Kylo only continues, now becoming the one to make a new streak of conversation, 

"And for the proposal, I am certain that you wouldn't wish to be wedded to The Supreme Leader." He chuckles once more, shaking his head merely at the thought, but I don't particularly understand what he meant, so I don't join in, "So don't be so unhappy that you got me instead, there could be worse."

My mouth goes dry. The wedding was slowly creeping up, and I fret the moment that my lust isn't the only thing tying me to Kylo Ren, in its invisible string. 

"Where will we go after the wedding then?" I mumble, noticing the way the artist had no intentions of listening to our conversation as she was so submerged in a world of pastels and paint. 

"Amongst the stars, I suppose." He replies, and I think back to that night where he laid behind me, promising me that very thing – But was he like Anwar with his promises? Would a better opportunity come up, swaying him to prolong my heart's escape? 

"Wherever The First Order need me, I will go and bring you, too." Kylo says, and my stomach churns. 

He means the stars as in the bases in the galaxy, where The First Order move planet to planet, taking what the can and ravaging whatever they could – Just like they were doing right now upon Jorkhan, and my guts sink into acid when I realise that I would be doing that amongst the beauty of the stars, assisting in the war and depression.

"As in capital ships?" I whisper, glancing to Kylo now, "You wish to live on base for the rest of our lives?"

Kylo turns his head to me and shrugs. His face is straight and emotionless as his eyes narrow at my question. I have to remind myself that there is something beneath this straight calm – A little piece of darkness that he often lets slip.

"Dreadnoughts. Ships. Supremacy's – Yes, I do believe that is where we will stay." He deadpans and my lips part softly, my eyes widening before him, "Why are you acting surprised? There's no difference between you living a life of hierarchy in Jorkhan, than it is out there, where I will rule as Supreme Leader one day... Us two, we're made for glory. It's in our blood and fate."

There's that word that he spoke so often about, _Fate._

His hand grips my thigh tighter, if that was even possible and if he can't hear the thunderous beat of my heart above the rain, I am certain he can feel it in the veins where he cuts of the pulse that shoots circulation to my right foot, which begins to bounce nervously. 

_"If the monstrous Kylo Ren is able to grow feelings, maybe eventually we can use that against him."_

I shake my head at Anwar's circling voice and force a tight and fake smile upon my lips, hoping it is enough to hide the apprehension inside of me.

"Oh." I sigh, then changing my tone to a sarcastic chime that I would only ever give to the golden boy, who is somewhere in the paddocks or stables right this moment, most likely planning the uprising in his head. 

"It's just – A place with no oxygen seems to be more suffocating than right here." I add, chuckling as I lose myself in the colour of his eyes, which I know that the artist who we had forgotten was there, had no amount of paint in her collection, to capture the charm of his browns.

He gives me a small smile and with that, I assume my tight smile was enough to convey my simple addition to my mountains of lies,

"Maybe, but with me, you're not merely just a Princess nor a Queen of Jorkhan, you will be one of the rulers of the galaxy." He utters, causing a sharp pain to dagger into my heart, but for some twisted reason, I relish in the pain at his explanation.

Though I am not royalty, Kylo Ren will one day be The Supreme Leader and due to Ruby hiding the real Princess away, I will have to pretend to be her forever, leaving me to be The Supreme Leader's... _Wife?_

A noose slowly ties around my neck and tugs lightly in a warning. My fate has decided that I will forever assist in The First Order's treachery... Anwar was right. The people of Jorkhan must revolt. 

Either that or I become the plague to the galaxy as-well.

My curiosity will cause the death of me, but I don't ever believe it will be from those fists but rather the stare he gives when I say to him with a slight smile, 

"Something makes me think that I won't be making much choices for the galaxy though, after all, you said that The First Order has no individuals."

His stare is harsh, but that smirk never changes, making me breathe a small breath of relief. Those brown eyes then flicker upon every feature on my face, as if he is mapping it out in the back of his mind, preparing to snatch the paintbrush out of the artist's hand and complete the portrait himself.

Kylo's voice comes soft, although rough, as if the darkness in him always fought with the light, "Yes, well... Maybe, when I am the one in charge, I can change that."

My mouth parts further and I fall silent to his words that hang in the tension with new possibility, although, I presume that his dangerous intentions will never wish for the same things that I would change about the galaxy, if I had even an inkling of power that he does. 

We stare in silence for a moment, and despite forgetting about the artist's presence, she doesn't ask us to look back as she begins to finalise small touches here and there upon the wet canvass. 

I can still feel the fear in my chest waiting to take over. Perhaps, it only wants to protect me but its presence is almost as overwhelming as his as this emotion sits there like a flood propelling me towards an anxiety that I just don't need as I look to his danger, which only masquerades as a trusting promise and soft eyes. 

Here, Kylo Ren sits, promising me everything that I would have never expected and yet, my body is refusing to believe him. I swallow the lump of false acid in my throat, but its aftertaste lingers on the edge of my tongue. 

I could help the galaxy, and yet, that's when he would refrain his promise and demand my silence as he takes over the Universe.

"It's all done." A voice suddenly breaks our tension away, like the snapping of a paintbrush into a water-jug and her paint-covered hands being wiped on her apron. I clear my throat and look back to her, watching her uncover from around the large canvass. Standing abruptly to my numb feet, Kylo's hand slides around my frame as he does the same, but I make quick movements over to the painting first. 

The painting dominates my previous conflicting desire, every colour is bold and painted with such precise lines that it looks as if Kylo and I were looking in a mirror. 

"Woah!" I gasp, but then try to hide my surprise, as I realise the woman who shrugged at her artistry, had supposedly painted the real Princess a hundred times before. 

The artist's stroke lines are thin and realistic, curved yet sharply defined, there's even a glisten of the sky that shined through the window, upon each of our eyes. Kylo looks at it only once, then swapping his gaze to fall upon my jaw-dropping and wild eyes that flicker upon every corner. 

But as I glance at my closed smile, I realise it wasn't much so. In the lines of my mouth, there is a slight curvature and I cannot tell if it is a mistake or I really was so lost in my own mind at one point, that I had forgotten to smile the same way the real Princess had in every painting that lined the palace walls.

I am soft compared to the brute of a man beside me, but in my features, I fret that I am not the only one who can see the spark of anxieties in my pastel eyes. I am bright in the portrait but beside the dark and brooding, Kylo Ren, I seem to be painted onto the background, like there really isn't anything of substance inside. Nothing more than the tumbling colours, which are conveyed as chaotic and shallow.

I force another smile and appreciate the artist for her work, telling her how it will be praised at the banquet, which by the looks of her frayed dress, she won't be invited to. Then, ignoring the stare of Kylo, I glanced back to it.

It is both stunning and head-ache inducing, it's like a novel condensed onto a single page. I pray to myself that nobody but I can see the conflict in my painted pictures.

Kylo's voice tears my prayers to shreds and stomps on them till they fall hopeless and bare.

"Thank you," He says to the artist, never tearing his eyes off of my reddening cheeks, "You may be excused now."

As the fear elopes me again, I am tightened beneath its smothering ring of fire as I become apprehensive of the possibility of being suddenly called out for all I had said before. Maybe, Kylo was just waiting for the moment the artist left, to strike? 

Maybe, he knew all along that I was now convinced into the rebellion of the slum people – How would he know that? I am not quite sure, but that didn't stop my mind from creating dreaded assumptions.

The artist takes no time to collect her things, leaving the canvass to stand potently in the middle of a large tarp, that her footsteps crinkle upon loudly as she sneaks out of the room, leaving only Kylo, me and the rain in this overly large room, that was so-obviously used for only painting, as much tools lined the table that curled around the right side, and the lack of furniture.

There was only the tarp beneath our feet, the two chairs that we sat upon and the double eyes of us glaring back at, and as I search for signs in the haunting browns, his real eyes burn my side-profile like a thousand cuts.

"Why did you do it?" He suddenly broke the silence, to which even the rain seemed to soften beneath, only to then roar with a raging crack of lightening. 

My heart pounds as thunderously against my chest, and for a moment I swear it is going to crash through my ribs and flesh, to then smack upon the canvass in its own deep crimson, paint. 

Why did I do what? I wonder, there's so many things I have done, but only one seems to come to my mind as my panic builds and lurches in my blood. 

_Anwar._

Did Ruby expose my tying to Anwar to save herself incase I snitched on her for hiding the Princess? 

Had Kylo, this whole time, known that I had kissed Anwar after refusing for so long, to kiss him?

"Do what?" I mutter low, refusing to turn my gaze to him, but when his leather fingers twine around my chin and give him my sight that I didn't wish to give, I fall helpless to his expression.

There's suddenly a vulnerable and tender look upon his face, as if he is so close to being broken and it's a stark difference to the expression he glared through the wet paint of the canvass.

He breathes heavily onto my face for a short moment, and I bask in the minty wind, despite my fear, but when he speaks once again, all fear is lost and I am lead into the hopeless gaze.

"Why did you kiss me that night?" He asked this time, mending all my sharp daggers that began to ricochet into my heart. 

My mouth falls agape and I glance away timidly as his leather hand then curls around my crimson cheek,

"O-Oh." I shakily breathe, then covering it up with a brittle smile, "W-Well, I figured that I better get used to it before the preacher announces to."

My laughter only falls limp in the air when he doesn't join in. I am awaiting the scolding to come by the nonchalant look on his face that forms like a defence to keep me from seeing what could convey on his face and let me know just what he might be thinking. I'm bracing for impact, holding up my defences for his combat.

When those burning eyes laid back upon me, they tore a hole into my crying soul, which still ignorantly wanted and lusted after the touch he could lay with those fingers that danced upon my face so tenderly, despite the deep stare he gave, obviously lost in his own thoughts rather than the reality of right here, right now.

I was lost with just his flicker of a gaze that laid upon, slowing time into a stretched out continuum that even made the blood in my veins pause until my heart began to beat thunderously once more, bringing me back to life before his soulful browns, when suddenly, _they shifted._

His other hand curls around the small of my back and there's a tender second, where only the winds outside howl and sing a song to stir the emotions that cave and build inside my chest. 

The forgotten tension was kissed by rainfall and much like the many days before it, outside, the rain still plummeted down onto the thick and now, _dying,_ soil, harshly and vigorously – But it was in this room, where the desire only grew and basked in the passionate stare that Kylo gave to me.

My limbs are still incredibly numb from sitting so still for so long, and they almost feel as if they could creak with rusting, but when he takes a deep breath inwards and leans in, I await for those lips to form me anew. 

It didn't take long for the canvass to fall to the ground, shortly after he had laid me beneath him and neither of us cared for the smeared painting as my hair swiped it and his leather hands used my painted, brooding, expression as leverage to hold himself over me, whilst his kiss demanded only more.

And with this unescaping desire that grew unceasingly in my chest, _unlike the dying plants of the orchards,_ I only gave him everything he wished, because secretly, I needed more too.


	20. Painted Affairs

Lost in a thick tension, one much more smothering than the dark skies above, my misty clouds were hazy with the rush of my blood which downpours lust so tenaciously into my system, until I am eventually drowning in its intoxication.

Before I knew what was even happening, the canvass had crashed to the ground in our quick moments which were spun with vital intentions as one thing led to another and then eventually, I was laying upon the wet paint of the previously, perfect portrait, as Kylo Ren kissed me – And I kissed so softly back.

He climbed over me with his thighs pressed over my hips as he leaned over with his leather gloves which were now coated in pastels as he began to press his lips with more desire. I could tell quickly, with the taste of his slick tongue fighting my own, that this kiss wasn't like the kisses that were purely fuelled by arousal, this was a real one – Almost resembling the potential of when I kissed Anwar in the rain, not so many days ago.

My eyes widened as he removed a painted hand from the canvass I laid upon, hooking it around my hips and leveraging me closer, as if he wanted to crash our souls together in this passionate moment that had come out of nowhere, and nothing.

It never failed to startle me when he did that, picking me up as if I weighed nothing and only using one hand to do so – Which caused paint to form all over the back of my dress, which was already stained a new colour than the light blue fabric it was meant to be.

Kylo's breath drew in sharply through his nose and he lifted and settled himself against my inner thighs, where his hand once previously played, making me loop my arms around his thick neck, smearing pastels into his raven hair. My thighs squeezed nervously around him, causing him to chuckle into my rosy, vinous mouth.

My conscience fought behind the kiss for only a short moment which I shot down quickly with the guilt that brewed in the concoction of my lust. Out of all the things I could possibly get away with, there's still some invisible string that tugs onto the idea of Anwar and the possibility of loving him more than a friend, wishing that he was the one wrapped around me rather than Kylo, but in the kiss he gave in the fields, it didn't have any hidden desires tingling beneath the taste.

I felt foolish, in the fact that I had allowed myself to become so addicted to Kylo Ren's touch when truely, it was his soul that could bring me to death or tears. He had managed to do something to my ardour of physical closeness, but my mentality doesn't understand the overdrive.

Sex and love are not the same thing, this I have sharply known to be clear. There is not an inkling inside of me that loves Kylo Ren, in-fact I still debate with myself as to whether I actually like him at all. But the way he can make me come undone with his touch, is both beautiful and dangerous, giving me an unspeakable sense of exhilaration with every grind and kiss.

The sounds of the rain faded away, and everything felt like it was trapped in slow motion. The smell of his musk and manliness made me lightheaded. Curls of his long dark hair kept brushing over my cheeks like waves of silk, occasionally brushing stokes of colour upon the slate of me, like the bristles in the water-jug, once scraped paint among the canvass that we had ruined.

Underneath his thighs, the firm hold of my hands moved and pressed up and into his chest. Keeping him aloft against me, just leaving enough space to twine our lips into one another.

The throbbing between my legs was a dull, steady thud, like a heartbeat and I couldn't tell whether it was coming primely from me or him. He ached, I could tell by the harsh grip that clawed at the wet canvass, which had no time to even think about drying.

Kylo groaned deep in his chest at my tongue which slipped into his mouth, and I grounded against him despite myself, blushing with shame at his primal sounds.

He pulled away, "Princess," He purred, delight sparkling in his dark eyes.

Kylo's complexion was rosy and his eyes were glassy and dilated as they met mine. I exhaled slowly in response to his deep utterance, my brows lifting from a previous tensing and my mouth relaxing whilst his salvia mingled on the shine of my lips as mine did with his.

I stared into his deep, brown eyes, looking for an answer to my inner questionings, as to why I am so attracted to a dangerous and sinister man, who will most definitely tear this planet to shreds, and then ask me to assist him in doing the same with a thousand more.

But my head only tilted slightly against the paint, my hair surely ruined in pastels, and I surprised myself, when I smiled to him. His cheeks almost burned in my beam and I can tell that I caught him by surprise too. _Who would have thought?_ A mere peasant girl, bringing one of the most powerful men to his knees, submerged in soft and gorgeous paints, rather than the coating of his enemy's blood.

When my smile gave way to the trembling of his intoxication, he only moaned once more, before returning his mouth to mine, whilst unclipping his murderous lightsaber off of his belt and throwing it to the side of the room, where it scrapped against the tarp like the clashing of rain against the arched windows of dreamscapes.

The next kiss warmed me up to the brim, smacking me so hot that I burned all over with need, but as quick as his tongue had forced itself back into my mouth, he pulled away and suddenly, the bitter taste of grotesque paint that was lapped over leather, prodded at my lips, tingling with an asking.

My cheeks burned bright red, with his left hand standing potently at my mouth whilst his eyes grew hooded above me, and in the golden stare I only grew more drunk to his gaze, that I had to glance away, focusing on the decorative tints that dyed the black leather so chaotically.

Kylo Ren smirked at my shyness, only using his forefinger to push lightly against my teeth, and suddenly, I got the message.

I bite against the tip of his leather gloves, and he pulls his hand away whilst I do so, leaving the gloves to fall of his hands, but only slap down against my chin whilst I keep it between my teeth, awaiting the next hand to prod at my lips.

His naked hand takes away the glove in my lips, throwing it to the side around the whereabouts of his forgotten lightsaber, and then I do the same thing with his other hand.

Kylo's lips parted for a second, when the brisk air of my breath fanned against the flesh of his other hand, and then he smirked, "Good girl." He praised, like he often would, but that didn't stop the litter of goosebumps to form along every crevasse of my skin.

Then pushing the skirt of my dress up, he pulled his hips away only to flip the fabric over my waist, which had become heavier than usual with the new stains of paint. Then, Kylo hovered back down between my legs, not before pulling down my undergarments along the sharp flesh of my exposed thighs, and then down to my ankles, where he unhooked the garment from one boot but left it around the other.

He only flickers his gaze up my legs, briefly over my delicates and then to my timid face, that cowered in sudden anxieties of his prying eye, but he didn't seem to care.

"Your beauty was often shared in words, but it is an understatement to your true enchantment," He purred, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

It stunned something in me alive and a squeak only erupted up my throat at his honesty.

But my conscience only ruined the fluttering of butterfly wings that tickled against my heart, as it clapped each wing between its hands and then hushed a wondering of what he would think if he saw the real Princess – Would he think she was more glorious than the slum girl, who truly wore old rags and was covered in grime, rather than paint and gold?

Then suddenly, he grabbed my hips, flipping me onto my front effortlessly, and like a doll, I fell limp against the painted portrait, causing Kylo's portrait to smear browns and pale tones across my cheek. My eyes widened as he manhandled me like this, but no protests escaped my lips as he began to use his warm hands to grip and knead my rear and thighs.

My arms were splayed out beneath my own chest, and when I pulled them out from underneath me, Kylo only took this as an opportunity to twist my wrists together above the small of my back.

When he let my hands go, I made no effort to move them away and that brought another round of praise to settle among my desire. Then, I began to feel the tracing of a warm digit along my spine, teasingly trailing all the way down, past my own hands and then meeting my inner core, where he used his touch to cause me to shake and whimper at his sinful hand's way.

Shivers prickled at my skin and wouldn't stop going in waves up and down my system as he would sway between teasing my bundle of nerves or sliding his finger into my warmth.

He curled his finger inside of me, not before adding another digit.

I choked against the bitter, poisonous paint.

"Look at you, my Princess." Kylo murmured, stroking my hip with his other hand as his thighs began to crush the back of my own, but it was only a numbing sensation compared to the euphoria his fingers brought.

I gulped at the overwhelming stretch, my eyes threatening to spill tears at the pleasure. Kylo only started to move his fingers even more, curling them in and out of me in a rhythmic motion. He kept the pace slow, deliberate, and I only moaned pathetically at his teasing, head dropping down further into the paint, uncaring when it began to dry upon my lips.

After a few minutes, I could feel him begin to grind against me and I could tell he was as ready as I was, for something more than just fingers. But I would never toss out my drunken lust for him to hear how deeply I needed him.

But as if he had read my mind, he groans beneath his breath and utters the words I dread,

"If you want something, you have to ask me for it," Kylo said, with his deep tone laced in windless urging, the same why he bribed me to kiss him in the stable that day for his gift.

I blushed, biting my pastel lip and frown against the portrait, but when he forces in his fingers harsher, I whimper faithlessly. There's no way I could say what he needed out loud, my conscience would cripple itself.

I didn't say anything, and my silence only frustrated him even more in the heavy tension of lust and sweaty need. Taking my lack of words, he decided to only force me to beg for more with the only thing he could truely use against me – His experienced touch.

He began thrusting his two fingers harder, pushing against me and forcing me to buck against him for more. I started to gasp and tremble below him, looking so desperate for someone so pretentious, but when my crown fell off my head and rolled on its side over to his lightsaber, I somewhat caved.

Kylo laughed, slowing his pace, and it caused me to withdraw my hands from my back and splat them onto the canvass, causing the blue paint of my portrait's dress to fly into the air.

"P-Please..." I whimpered, fingers clawing at the canvass, the paint reminding me of the soil from the orchards, when it seeped beneath my nails.

Kylo Ren only made a deep, chesty sound and fanned a breath onto the back of my neck as he leaned over me and whispered low into my ear, "Tell me anything you want, and you will get it."

I fell incredibly limp below him, turning my head to the side he leaned to, laying my hazy and hooded eyes upon his strong features. I swallowed my pride sharply before him, "I w-want you..." I began, but he only cut me off with his husky and warm tone,

"You want me to fuck you?" He laid out so bluntly, causing a sharp feeling to swarm in my guts, which his long fingers prodded at.

I nodded against the canvass, the paint forming clumps in my hair as I flicked my gaze to the splattering of blues upon his porcelain features, almost making the freckles of his, jealous at the compliment it brought to him.

"Yes." Frustration was evident in my tone, but I still shuddered, never-less.

He growled in my ear, like the animal of a man he was. Then he pulled away and I heard him adjust the hem of his pants, waiting for my next cue as he practically groaned his words,

"Let me hear you then," He said, "Let me hear my Princess curse."

I only nervously laughed, the sound light and airy like bells, withdrawing my fingers from the canvass to curl them into tight fists, I shivered at the loss. Closing my eyes, I clenched them tight and spat the words before I chickened out.

_"Fuck me, Kylo."_

His belt buckle clinked, pants opening and slightly falling down his hips in harsh drawls coming from behind. I sucked a sharp breath in as he pulled my waist up to his hips, causing me to shift onto my knees in this new position that I had never been so vulnerably placed in before.

Kylo gripped my hips tightly, smearing more paint onto my exposed flesh, bracing me as he all at once, pushed steadily into me with his long and thick length. My back arched, mouth parting open in a silent scream at the feeling of being completely filled by his member.

After waiting a moment for me to adjust, Kylo's patience wavers thin quickly, for then he pulled back to thrust, once and then he just melted into my form, his hips slamming against me from behind with a loud smack of skin on skin. I cried out from passion that bled into the pain, the blunt force of it sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout my whole, burning body.

When his blunt nails scratch at the skin of my hips, I moan loudly into the painted canvass, causing the taste of paint to spur upon my crying out tongue, which I believe the sound I made caused even his bones vibrate.

"You're so loud, my dear," He groggily cooed, setting up a rhythm, pushing deeper, harder. "Just think, what if one of the servants were to wander by the hallway and hear us?"

The thought of it made him throb deep inside of me, but only brought my moans to brittle whines and whimpers.

The long pale-blue cotton skirt bunched up around my upper waist, just above where his hands gripped onto my skin. I shuddered, swallowing. He pinched the skin by my sides, and playfully raked his fingers down to my rear, where he then kneaded it in his hands like dough to baker.

I curse out loud, uncaring if anyone hears and he only chuckles at it.

I keened and held onto the canvass for dear life as Kylo picked up the pace. The movements giving a loud groan of the wooden backing of the painting to scratch through the tarp and ruin the hardwood floors below, but we didn't care. He said he doesn't care what happens to Jorkhan, nor the palace – And this castle was never truely my home, anyway.

With every thrust, and every moan of his, it felt like both of us were about to fall into a ricochet of undoing at any second. He was shaking, gripping harshly, cursing words beneath his breath. The fabric of the rumpled skirt teasingly brushed against him, growing wet in tiny little spots wherever it made contact to either us or the paint.

"Princess!" He practically gagged, and when he kept his pace going as fast as he could, I grew suddenly confident and moved a hand around my bunched skirt and back, to my core where he thrusted into, and radiated my coolness against his heat, my fingers around him a sudden relief too good to be true as he shook against me.

He rammed deep into me at the same time as my hand twisted up and around, squeezing. I couldn't believe what I was exactly doing, but that's something my conscience can fret over later, for the ecstasy of this moment is drugging and inducing me completely.

"K-Kylo." I managed to whimper, my fingers falling limp as he slammed with more force and held the position as I came undone beneath him, collapsing into the paint completely and seeing stars in the smears.

It didn't take long after hearing my cursing of his name so clearly in the haze, that he met that same elation as I did, and he only gave one last feeble groan as he did so. Kylo then fell and settled onto my back, his hands curling around my shoulders softly, feeling coarse with dry paint.

We lay like this for a while, but when the grind of his hips drew the smooth line of flesh slowly in and then back out of me, I shuddered a large breath out in mixed elation that met the greatest compliment of comfort.

When he pulled away, I made an effort to twist myself around beneath him, laying myself to stare back at the crimson of his cheeks and to feel the panting of his breath fan against me.

Then stunningly, his fingers came up to wrap lightly around the front of my throat and he made my head tilt up and back, my lips parting before him as he leaned in closer once again. When his lips were merely a brush away from me, I tried to swallow against the press of his large hand and found that I couldn't do it as he gripped tighter, but I still didn't fear him for the gloss of his eyes was too vulnerable.

His heart thudded in his glorious chest, beneath the heavy coating of black cloth he wore, which had become painted like a pastel rainbow, and my legs were trembling underneath his.

Then pressing his lips back to mine, that was the last thing I fell into wasted in the lust, before we eventually got up and assessed the damage of the portrait, laughing to ourselves at the ruining, whilst our sex-drive only went to rest, until we awakened it again.

The next day, Ruby screamed at me for the mess, but still, I only laughed.

It took many minutes for the servants to scrub my skin clean and comb out the dried paint from my hair, and yet, still more damage was done by Ruby's scowls and barbed-wired-words.

Every mean thing she'd thought but knew better than to say came flooding out, protesting that she will have to organise another portrait before the banquet for the Princess', _or shall I say_ , my birthday.

There's a deep hatred between us and yet we are supposed to be best-friends to every other's eyes, forcing us to stay side-by-side during the day. She would often see the hurt in her opponent's eyes, but she never backed away from me, only dug deeper to ensure that I wouldn't be the first to draw blood and snitch on her deepest secret, even though she now carried my own.

And although, there was nothing I could do to fight back or get out from underneath the weight that this crown and title provided me with, I still laughed at her furious face as she pointed to the mess Kylo and I made, for if she was going to make my life a living hell with her secrets,

_I will do my best to do the same to her._


	21. Rotten Apple

Since I had turned fifteen, I had worn the same lace-up boots. They were workers shoes, sturdy, stiff and made from a wooden sole, but overtime they had only shrunk around my growing foot, which left me walking with curled toes, whilst the leather tore and the laces eventually frayed.

Once white, they eventually turned a rusty brown with dust and the soles had a permanent layer of soil clinging to it. Where are those shoes now? I have not an inkling of an idea, but I can imagine they were burnt to a shrivelled crisp to avoid catching the _slum bug_ , that the people in town had made up just to create more chaos and fear from the other side of the golden gate.

Now, it seems every morning I get a new pair of shoes and it feels as if the Universe is apologising for making me squeeze my toes into a pair two sizes too small for so many years, but after having to break into the stiffness of my twentieth shoe, my obsession became vapid in overgrowing, leaving me to truly miss the softness of my old pair whilst the blisters upon my heels now, only burst and bled with every new shoe.

Self absorbed and frivolous. I had rolled my eyes when I had a proper look in the Princess' walk in closet, finding the perfectly aligned shelving packed with everything from sleek winter boots to heels that spoke of banquets and dances. Each was packed in vibrant tissue paper scented with the perfume that lingered around every corner of the palace. 

But now as I wear one of her old pairs that had been tucked into the back corner of her closet, I found this certain pair to be one of the only sizes of her's which could properly fit me as if it was a tight-fitted glove. It seemed the real Princess was a size bigger than me and I chuckled to myself lowly as I walked the halls with Ruby by my side, for it must kill the Princess' ego to think that a slum girl, with all of her slum bugs included, is wearing her high-heeled, lace up boots right now.

I lift the bottom of my dress slightly up along Ruby and I's walk back to my quarters, and I watch the way with each step I take, the silk lace that was looped into the rich, real leather, flopped in a random, but jumbled way. I even alter each footfall along the hardwood, causing my heels to echo and bounce off the windows and walls, just so I can watch the effect of the chaotic and disorderly falling of the laces which I obviously hadn't tied up tight enough.

"Can you stop walking like such an imbecile." Ruby's voice suddenly, gritted through her teeth as she only used her peripheral's to glare to me this time. 

Audibly scoffing and rolling my eyes, I dropped my dress that I had bunched up into my hands and let it cover my boots. Now overcome with a dreaded silence, Ruby and I, both walk uncomfortably next to each-other and it takes a lot of strength within to perch a happy smile onto my face and fake a conversation with the ginger girl, whenever somebody walks by us – But as soon as they are out of sight, our grins and warmth disappear with them.

I sigh to myself, it didn't matter if I was running through the halls and screaming or even if I tip-toed next to her silently, Ruby will always seek me out and scold me. She searched every tiny little thing that I would do and point out the disgrace, just to wind up for her next power fix. 

Her victory is a forgone conclusion, her ego boost at my expense guaranteed. She feeds off me like a lion with their prey, although she doesn't share it with the pack; Leaving energised in her own fury as I feel drained and tense. She is a horrible person and for a second, I wonder how she would change this world if she was in charge, but to me, she is more of a parasite than the plague of the dreaded, First Order. 

She's vapid inside, needing these transitory external crutches but she uses my own crumbling defences to build hers up even further, stealing my metaphorical bricks that I had perched into a wall and only adding it to her own. 

I glanced at her in my silent rage and sorrow. She walked as stiff as The First Order's StormTroopers, seeming as if she had been armed with more than my own defences as she walked with a marching quality – But then, I see it. 

Ruby's shoulders still back and straight, yet I notice she eyes frequently her reflection often by checking her own appearance in the window glass, which the rain still thrashed against. It was as if she felt superior and insecure all at once, perhaps that's the emotional optimum in a shallow human such as herself. 

A pensive smile forms on my lips and I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle laughter at my own idea. Sucking in a large and comfortable breath, I sigh it back out loudly, to which she only furrows her brows at, but when my feet begin to shuffle and trudge along the floors, she flinches.

My feet are barely lifting off the ground and the heels are making a scraping and shuffling sound above the hardwood. It was a skin-crawling sound, a sound which even annoyed me like a loud buzz of a fly that cannot be swatted out of the air, as I only continued my movements. 

When the flash of annoyance comes upon her disgruntled features, I only bask in her growing, burning anger. In that moment I funnel all my strength into my feet and only make the sound impossibly worse as I kept my grinning, mouth shut and hands relaxed by my swaying sides in glee.

Ruby's face only flushes a deeper red. I know what I am doing is angering her, and it's only more torturous to her fury, when she can easily tell that I am only doing this for a reaction. 

Just when I cannot contain my stifle of laughter, she caves.

"Would you please pick your feet up!" She roars, as if the pressure of my trudging feet were like nails on a chalkboard. 

Remarkably, even though I had caused her fury to erupt, I still became stunned by her anger as if I didn't expect it, but in a matter of seconds, I only smiled at my victory. 

Ruby Mayse is like a tangled knot of emotion, but instead of thread, she had wires that lead to a ticking bomb. She so desperately tried to let it explode somewhere safe, often away from prying eyes but in this moment, she didn't care who may hear as they gave us side-glances.

By just the expression that a passerby gave, I smiled to him and shrugged – Which only made Ruby more furious in her withheld wrath, which is soon to erupt further once we reach my quarters that we near. 

I chuckle at the crimson cheeks of hers,

"I don't know..." I drawl, thinking over our first fight of the day and repeating the phrase that I knew, made her blood boil, "Can I go to the stables?"

The situation only became more humorous to me when as soon as I had asked my question, a crack of lightening whipped over the day-clouds and thunder roared at the impact. The storm was almost as irritated as Ruby was, with the low slung darkness which exploded with pent up fury. Wind whipped the frigid drops, sending them hurtling in every direction and also straight down upon the arched, glass windows by mine and Kylo's, door. 

But indeed, there was no greater desire than going to the stables to see Anwar, weather roaring or not, or humour and seriousness: I still wished to go.

Just as we stop at the door, Ruby waves away the guard for a second and then shakes her head to me as she practically slaps my hand away from the doorhandles and opens the two, thick doors by herself. 

I trudge through the entry and twist around to block her from entering, just as she answers my waiting question,

"No – Firstly, because it's raining and secondly, you only want to go so you can see your slum boyfriend." She scoffed, rolling her icy blue, harsh eyes into white and resting her hand on her hip, seeming as if now she was the one blocking the exit. 

"And I am not risking any chances of you getting caught." She adds low, weary of the guard who moved a bit further down, hearing her words.

I poke my head out of the entry, just to take a peak at the royal guard, who was dressed in First Order armour. I grin, "Why?" I ask, a bit too loud to the ginger girl, who I then glanced back to with the raise of an eyebrow, "Because you will be caught too?"

Ruby's eyes snap to mine and her lips part at my words. Eyes wide and heart pulsating behind her chest, she grabs onto my wrist that hung around the side of the door and pushed me into my quarters, and I stumble back with contorted features, clinging my sore wrist to my chest timidly.

Then holding the doors barely closed behind her back with her hands gripping harshly around the gold knobs as the thin line between the door and the hallway, shined the light through – She snaps her head in every direction, processing the empty space of the quarters and ensuring nobody is around. 

When her narrowed eyes suddenly move back to me, she merely spits,

"Be quiet!" 

Still twining the flesh of my wrist with my other hand, I chuckle and shake my head, still imitating that my defences are strong, although she had as much power as Kylo Ren did, to tear them all down with her sinister and cruel words.

"Let me go to the stables." I straighten my shoulders and chime, this time with more confidence than before as I more-so state it than ask. 

Ruby looks taken aback, but her expression only morphs into one of offence – And in her eyes, I can see what she is thinking, for she had spat it to me not long ago. 

It has been clear since day one, and even though it seems as if I am able to fool everyone else, Ruby cannot seem to forget that I am a commoner, a dirty, slum girl – And she is incapable of treating me as anything else – _So why should I have to treat her as an authority?_

Flinching her head back and raising her eyebrows in disbelief of my outburst. She cocks her head to the side and flicks out her tongue to the corner of her mouth, clicking it and scoffing.

"Why do you wish to go? So you can fornicate with the slum boy?" She musters over sarcastically, already knowing the answer. "I presumed you had already forgotten about him..." She adds, and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion at her words, but when her eyes scan to the faded purple bruise that blotched right below my jaw, I immediately grew red and tossed my hair in-front of it again. 

Ruby continues and this time, she is the one who is laughing, "For it seems as if you have become quite _cozy_ with Kylo Ren." 

My stomach does an incredible drop, resembling the sharp shoot of a sharp arrow that cuts through the tension. Shame coursed my veins as if I was now shifting gears and running on it. I allowed the darkness to fall to my flesh and I felt her laughter swallow me whole for a little while, but then all at once, I crashed my course of shame and brewed in the gas-fire of anger. 

Only speaking the same thing she had when I was the one who caught her off guard, I spat, 

_"Be quiet."_

She only shakes her head and chuckles. 

My system boils as if I had just submerged myself in acid and it seeps through my thin skin and melts my bones when I realise that every-time I feel as if I am winning, as if I am the one who is riding the high of being the one to crash the other down, she blows me right off my pedestal and takes my place once more.

Just as she opens the crack in the door further and walks back into the halls, she says one last thing, "I'll see you tomorrow night." She grins, a devilish grin that I want to punch right off her pale, freckly face whilst the fire of her hair dies in my cruel embers, "And don't do anything stupid in the meantime."

I roll my eyes, "Whatever." I slur, like the true, slum girl that she thought I was, with my uncommon and derogatory words. 

Just as I turn around, ready to trudge myself to bed and hide beneath the covers forever – I feel as if I am one of the bruised apples from the orchards and this time, Ruby is the picker. She often plucks me and assesses the damage from the rains and bugs, but no matter how much she tries to shine me upon the material of her dress, I am still what she assumed at the start, _rotten._

Red in the face, fists clenched, hard staring eyes, when I don't hear the door yet close and then her venomous voice instead, I want to punch my hands through the walls and claw myself as far away from her as I can.

"Oh, and by the way... Princess?" Ruby hushes, in a kind tone – And I know with this sudden shift, the worst is yet to come. 

I turn around and face her, raising an eyebrow for her to continue but don't give her the glory of my defeated tone. 

She smiles and tilts her head, _"Happy birthday."_

My defences have been drenched and blown away entirely and now in the quiet, I bury flowers in the wreckage as a symbol of mourning, but they only grow back as thorns. 

There is an intense anxiety to the rain, as if between the tumbling cloud and the earth it is fearful of never reaching its destination as I peek through the balcony entrance with her words echoing in my mind like a soulless whisper of conquering. 

The sound alone is enough to make me pace the little space of the balcony, where the rain does not yet reach, with arms folded across my chest which rises and falls more abruptly than it should. The sound of this rain, so soothing to some, is enough to drown out every other noise, but my anxiety is screaming within, wishing for a release as I await either a servant to come and annoy me, or the distraction that was, Kylo Ren's hands. 

But alas, I cannot wait any longer than I already have, _even if Ruby had only left forty minutes ago_ , for something in that huddled anxiety was still whispering beneath my screams, and yet, that voice was louder in its reasoning.

_I need to see Anwar._

_I need to go to the stables._

I didn't even realise what exactly I was doing until the rain began to thrash onto my skin – I don't even recall battling my inner conscience about opening the doors of my quarters and taking the leap of sudden adrenaline or not, but I must of, because I had seemed to sharply throw my new shoes onto the hallway floors, which then turned to the stone of the courtyards and then into the sludge of the ruined fields which lead to the paddocks and stables. 

The rain fell softly as if it knew of my hardships both behind and ahead. Each droplet crashed upon my skin as if it was trying to wash away the pain of the past and the uncertainty of what was to come, but no matter how much it tried, it couldn't scour away the love-bite on my neck which Ruby had pointed out, not long ago.

When the stables are still distant, but now in sight, I begin to wring my limp and drenched hair to the side of my neck, in attempts to hide it from Anwar when I eventually see him. I couldn't even bare to imagine how he would react and I didn't necessarily wish to explain that, _no I didn't like Kylo Ren, but I had become addicted to his physical attraction as if he was some sort of drug that I couldn't kick_ – And something tells me that Anwar would presume me to be brainwashed by his mystical powers, which I had often considered too, every now and then.

The barn once blossomed amid the green, short-cut grass, only days ago, but now, only mud was its surroundings, as if it had dropped from the sky and imbedded itself into the murky soil that the rainfall had ruined. The timbers were aged and the light that streamed out from the creaking roof illuminated the droplets above like burning embers.

It was beyond cold. Even colder than most winter nights back home, where I had to curl up into myself during the night to avoid getting frostbite on my toes and fingers. My breath frosted over as the wintry air greeted me, the stables gelding at the end of my warm mist which pawed at the wooden walls impatiently as I had to walk around to the entry that faced the back lining of the palace. 

The first cracks of illumination glimmer out the entry around the corner, but the smell hits me first. Smelling just like home, as if it was a scented candle of the orchards but far way and lacking the sweaty servants, who couldn't even smell the beauty with all the grime that they had breathed in for hours that day already. 

Musty odour of wet straw presses against the cold air first, but with a nervous breath inwards, I can clearly detect the under-layers beneath the straw, grass and mud that surrounds – Animal fur and the stank of old manure, rain-water splashing into the watering trough and maybe even the sharp smell of old, oily metal and machinery, but most importantly, leather, the type that caused blisters all along Anwar's, home-like hands.

Winding around the corner of the stables, the door is already bound open by thin ropes that were attached to the wooden walls. There's a sense of heat that blows out from the inside and it warms my trembling bones which had become stiff like frozen icicles whilst I wrapped them around my torso, in hopes to keep my brittle heart warm too.

The old hay barn has stables at the front with those old half-doors to allow the horses to see the view of the yard. And just when I turn into the barn, I immediately jump backwards and hide behind the wooden panelling, away from the people inside. 

Confusion flooded my system as if the rain was laced with disorientation and hallucinations, seeming as if it had seeped through all my pores to cause me to have a bewildering mirage that my own mind was creating. But the rain wasn't intoxicated with anything and I only allowed it to continue falling from my hair, down my cheeks and into my parted lips as I curled my fingers around the entry and peeked my eyes out to make sure just what I had seen was true.

_It was true._

There they were, as baffling and perplexing as it seemed, facing each-other with their disgruntled features and bright rays of hair, which seemed as if they were the reasoning for the suns' departure. 

Anwar and Ruby. 

Widening my eyes, only to narrow them in hopes to understand what they were doing, I couldn't hear exactly what they were murmuring to each-other from here, and for a soft fraction of a moment, I feared that Ruby was taunting him the way she would with me – But when Anwar only, visibly sighs and hands her what he held in his blistered grip, I realise they seemed be on the same agreement and secretive exchange, as Ruby looked around the barn before taking what he held out to her and then began to walk to the exit.

Gasping below my breath, the rain only thrashed harder and more pensive to the soiled grounds, leaving my new pair of shoes to sink into the mud and stain. I quickly side-step around the corner of the stable once more when Ruby exits and I shrink myself up against the wooden paneling to keep myself hidden away.

Furrowing my brows at what I had just seen, _but was obviously_ , not suppose to have seen, I watch Ruby make her way back to the palace in the midst of the thrashing rain as Anwar seems to just stay in the stables, as if she had never come at all. 

_What were they doing?_

_Why were them two even speaking, at all?_

I leaned upon the side of the stable in the rain as I watched Ruby walk away into the distance and no matter how much I tried to figure out what I had just witnessed, I could not find out a motive nor a reasoning as to what they were doing. 

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat which tastes like acid and burns my insides with anxiety and trepidation, but no matter how sick I felt, I continued to keep my gaze fallen on the ginger girl who walked ahead and onwards.

With a royal-blue umbrella in one hand and a bottle of rat poison in the other.


	22. National Anthem

My mind was running as fast as a thousand horses could sprint away from their chains, whilst my heart was beating at a maddening pace.

In the gloom of night, there is steam, rising in short swirls of music and cheers which dance through the air and to the silent clouds, then disappearing into the twilight, whilst the warmth of a celebration, fires in the heart of the Kingdom.

As our feet click down the halls, I clung onto my expensive dress nervously, whilst many paints and lip-stains were beginning to flush heavily due to the silence between us as we made our way to the banquet, which celebrated my birthday that was supposably yesterday – Despite the fact that my true birthday was months ago.

As Kylo and I, finally walked out into the courtyards, the soft wind hit my crimson face, giving me a cooling edge that tried to quiet down the invisible worries and ponders that have cradled my mind, shaking it with a violent shock of misunderstanding.

No matter how long I had stared at the ceiling, looking through the rich wall-paints, I couldn't find an answer in the tiny details as to why Ruby and Anwar were _so_ secretly talking in the stables yesterday. My stomach churns unceasingly. What was so important between the two, that neither of them, especially Anwar _– My best-friend –_ Couldn't, or haven't told me?

My mind is constantly erupting and my eyes flicker around the courtyards with every new fabrication of answers that I try to come up with. Like a tangled yarn, my assumptions have been knotted around and no longer can I find my needle that is the key to all my questions.

Without the rain beading down onto the soil anymore and only drizzling like soft mist, I can't even grip onto the reality that sprays so thinly like the cloud's tears, for all I know truely now, is that I am not the only best kept secret in this palace and whilst mine is wrapped in barb-wire, Ruby Mayse's are covered in multiple signs that deter people from even assuming she could be keeping any secrets – After all, she is one of the King's most trusted, and the Princess' best-friend... _What could she have to hide?_ Well, I know that she has the real Princess hidden away somewhere, but what did Anwar have to do with that?

And why has Anwar locked himself into something, without even telling me about a key? What is he hiding as-well?

It's torturing my soul: _Knowing_ that I am stuck _unknowing,_ for I can't even confide into the person who I thought could draw stars around my scars, for he seems to be trading those stars for secrets with the very person who I hate more than the man beside me, who is cursing me with shadows of thrills and destruction.

I walked by him, lithe even in my defensive, armoured heart. If it was my destiny to be sacrificed to this beast, I presume that at least, the rest of my flesh-wounds could heal but I am only lost crawling along the shattered glass of my past, trying to find answers for my future in the cracked reflections.

Previously, I thought I was just chained in this Kingdom, wearing a virginal white dress which awaited being married off to Kylo Ren, but slowly along the way, my dress has collected dust. The riots of the slums. The orchards dying in the storms. The First Order enlistments. Ruby knowing the whereabouts of the Princess but keeping it away from the King. There's so many layers of dust that are not just fluttering onto my dress, but drenching it as if they were anchors to my chest, and all I want is to pull myself out from beneath the weight of all these secrets and torturous turnings of fate.

All I need is clarity, but in this stolen lullaby of my sinking past and uncertain survival, I cannot figure out whose name I should curse out for saviour, because now I feel as if I am being smothered by the dirt that everyone I am surrounded by, shovels onto my casket – Some wearing the same jewels that line my crown and others, wearing the same soil beneath their nails, to my funeral of lost hope and certainty.

There is no discrimination in secrets and betrayal, and although I don't know what Anwar and Ruby were up to, it can't be good if it was being kept away from my prying eye. All I can trust now is myself, and as Kylo and I were slowly walking to the banquet, my heart was beating a tune of trepidation and fear as I fret the moment I will have to face both the King and Ruby.

"What's causing your anxiety, my Princess?" The deep and demanding voice of Kylo Ren, suddenly brought me out of my daze, bringing me back to life as if I had lost myself into my illicit, longing stare which needed answers, that I may never get.

I shiver in my sadness that laps over the icy chill of the night's breath, which sways through the tree's leaves and manages to sink through my thick dress and even leave a cold touch to the crown above my head, which weighs more than it ever has.

Snapping back to life as if his words had shot an arrow into my heart, I suck a sharp breath in and glance to the tall man, who didn't even spare me a look as he trudged by my side, his silver lightsaber shining in the moonlight so beautifully, it could even manage to make my crown form rust of jealousy.

I swallow the lump in my throat, understanding one thing clearly and suddenly, which I had always known – My thoughts were masqueraded to my gratitude of his refusal to read them, but that didn't stop Kylo Ren from reading my emotions as if they were a fairytale.

"Nothing." I lie, shaking my head and forcing myself to smile to him, but he doesn't take the time to turn his head to me as his eyebrows only furrow, "I'm just nervous for the banquet." I add.

He blows a breath to which it forms like tendrils in the cold air, proving the warmth inside the monster, "Nervous?" He repeats.

I nod, "Yes."

With wide shoulders, a long stance, brooding muscles that tense even beneath the thick layers of his uniform, Kylo Ren walked tall and confident along the stone floors of the courtyards, with an expression that made it seem as if he already owned the Kingdom, which he will soon change with those large hands that he began to tense and curl into one another, behind his back.

His skin is pale beneath the illumination that the star's graciously give, but not as white as his knuckles which are probably clenching tightly underneath the stretching of his leather gloves. Suddenly, mystical apprehension cuts me open into a stinging wound of his angst, but when his face finally turns to me, its his brown eyes which _regretfully,_ heal my wounds fine.

"You're lying." He smirks, turning back to the path we follow and then back to me, as if he didn't know which sight he preferred, "I can tell what you are feeling as it is radiating off your heart so strongly. And I can easily tell, what is brittle nerves, and what is something... _More demanding."_

My wound has gashed back open and my lies are trying to rush out with the spitting scarlet.

Suddenly, no longer am I trying to attack or unveil Ruby and Anwar's secrets, but I am now trying to defend my own from the very person that I will always have to lie to.

_More demanding._ How much could he feel? I knew I was overly stressed, but I didn't think that my emotion was strong and free for him to understand, I thought it was caged tightly in my chest from the way it was so immense and painful.

Blood-thirsty scenarios, which keep clawing their way into my nerves and feeding on the roots of my fears, rush back into me but I keep my face casual with no hint of hesitation for him to read just as easily.

"I am not lying." I try to brush off, swiping my hand in the air as if the night's gaze was meaningless, "Just forget about it."

There's beginning to be a lingering of drunk people around that litter the courtyards that we walk, the music softly humming in the distance, which causes his next words to be spoken beneath his breath, for only me to hear as a group of people, sway and hobble by us.

"I can't forget when you're barely making it a secret."

I gasp beneath my breath and my skin feels like he has just dropped a million needles onto me.

_"A secret?"_ I hum, licking my dry lips and curling my fingernails into my palms to try and slow down the overwhelming beat of my heart, "Well... It's not very fair if I cannot keep my own emotions hidden away from you. Can't you just turn your force-sensitivity switch off or something?" I joked, but there was no hint of laughter between either of us.

Kylo Ren glanced at me once more and only then, did I notice the seriousness in his expression and tone, causing a flood of staggering dread to truely, make me go weak in his brutal and dark, stare.

"It doesn't work that way." He simply said, his inviting lips pursing afterwards.

I bite the inside of my mouth, "Great." I chimed, turning my gaze back to the people who began to move out of our way, no matter how intoxicated they were. My relief of the subject falling silent as was short lived though, when we reached a certain area, where nobody lingered, for the music was almost too loud to even think beneath as around the corner, my birthday was in full swing, even without my attendance.

I could barely hear him and I was planning to act ignorant to his words if he did speak, but when Kylo suddenly, pulled me by the wrist harshly into a room to the side, I squealed beneath the thud of the drums and panted to the string of guitars and harps.

When he closes the door behind him, a wave of heat flushes upon my icy skin and the music is brought back to a soft hum of distance. The room he had pulled me into, has a soft and golden light that dangles in a chandelier above, but that isn't what captures my attention wholeheartedly – It is the hundreds of rows, where cloaks and coats line and hang upon golden trollies.

Numbers are written on golden tags which are pinned softly to the cuffed materials, and then, I realise, all at once, that we are at the back of the cloak room, where behind all the rows of cloaks and coats, another small door sits. And on the other-side of that door, awaits the servants who all number and tag the guests belongings until the end of the night.

My eyebrows furrow and soften at the same time, whilst my mouth parts slowly. Just when I begin to run my fingers along the closest rack, Kylo Ren suddenly, pulls my wrist again and twists me to face him, his eyes burning into my own with fury.

"Tell me the truth, what are you so worried about?" He asks the question smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through my chest as I sucked in a sharp breath upon them.

All the air around me, sucks right into my soul upon his words and waves of heat coursed through my blood, whilst a cold sweat glistened at the back of my neck. In the midst of shock and wild panic, I stuttered incoherent words, trying to mask it all with a weary smile as he stared right into my brittle soul, whilst his leather hands moved to my forearms.

"I told you. It's nothing." I uttered, furrowing my brows and trying to thrash my hands out of his stone-like grip, "And even if it wasn't nothing, I wouldn't be telling you."

My words hit him sharply, and suddenly, his jaw tightens whilst his dark eyes shift in the small light of the cloakroom that feels far away from the banquet now but still as lively as my pulsating heart which thrashes against my ribcage.

I could feel the heat growing in my cheeks, which mark me out and urge his assumptions to be clear in growing hot. In his gaze, I felt as if all my insecurities were writ large across my scarlet face and there was nowhere to hide, not even behind the hundreds of rows that hung cloaks upon them.

His eyes are so memorising even in this artificial lighting, that I could be pulled into his gravity if it weren't for the malice that weighed like a boulder in his heart. Suddenly, his hand moves from my forearms and slide their way up my shoulders slowly.

My skin tingles where he touches me and my heart beats erratically in my chest so hard that I think it might fly out as he whispers softly,

"I could make you tell me." He hums, his eyes flickering all over my features and then resting back to my petrified gaze as he then says, "I could grip my fingers into your very mind, right now and there is nothing you could do to stop me."

The look in my eyes is a flashing beacon that shows I am afraid but all I do is stand completely frozen in his soft grip, with my lips quivering whilst his hand gropes my flesh, twisting and grazing towards my neck now.

If he reads my mind, there is no telling of the repercussions, as he will most definitely find out that I am not the woman who he thinks that I am. I can't let that happen, but there's surely nothing I can do to stop him from ever getting what he wants.

As my breathing hastens, the intense rhythm of my heartbeat undergoes an irregular count, hammering quicker than a lightning bolt as his hand slithers higher and higher, until eventually they are upon my heated cheeks.

"You're right, there's nothing I can do." I swallow, blinking away my tears which threatened to form by the way my eyes began to sting as we stood so still in this empty cloak room, "But you have already promised that you wouldn't do that to me."

His eyebrows raise quickly and he fans a cool chuckling onto my face.

"Rightfully true, I did promise." He tilts his head to the side, running his leather thumbs over my cheeks, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief beneath him. But when his hands only slide to my forehead, holding my skull between his murderous hands, I panic as he grits, "... But I have never been the one to keep a promise."

When the anxiety threatens to grab me by the tongue and dry my mouth, I begin to run through all my fears and fighting mechanisms that I have used to get myself out of sticky situations, but none of my life lessons have ever been this threatening or demanding before.

So this is it. It's happening. Kylo Ren is about to find out the truth, by ripping it out of my skull and devouring my secrets as if they were served on a golden platter.

"Don't–" I gasp, flying my hands up to his forearms and trying to shove his grip away but he is too strong as he only sinks his claws into my hair.

It started with a slight shimmer, like the air in front of me was being warped and twisted as the surrounding colours began to collide into one big portrait that resembled the painting he and I had ruined not so long ago.

I can feel him beginning to try and reach inside of my mind, but I am resisting him as much as I can, no matter how sharp and painful his claws are. It's like being ripped rather than cut but there is no blade that he possesses, only his power.

There's a pensive swirl of emotion in his golden eyes and just as the world begins to spin around the hue, a familiar voice pulls me astray and gravitates me back to the surface, for only me to hear.

_"Even better, make him fall for you... If the monstrous, Kylo Ren, is able to grow feelings, maybe eventually, we can use that against him."_

"What are you hiding?" He scowls, only pushing his force grip into my barricaded mind and just as my brick walls begin to crumble, I listen to that soft voice of Anwar's, instead of Kylo's, and I follow it willingly, for it is the only thing that is capable of saving me in this very moment.

I don't have any weapons, and I never will have brute strength. But my willingness to live, has always been my metaphorical sword. There is no more time for sleeping, the evening comes everyday in this battle and yet, I am still alive in the midst of a thousand secrets. I sharpen my sword and only form of defence as he digs deeper, and when all else prevails, I use it as my only attack.

My mind's a kaleidoscope of broken hues, revealing a void that was made of pure darkness beyond the walls. Kylo's grip is heavy and suffocating, whilst he has the power to cause havoc of everything in his path.

There is no room for light, no room for emotions. But then, I feel him press against my lips as I shove myself into his chest and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him off course and tearing him out of my mind, all at once.

My kiss is off script, out of character and it throws him spiralling out of orbit in confusion, as he paces back but I only follow him with my mouth as he crashes against a trolly of cloaks, but my hands only grip onto his cheeks now, whilst his fly back to gain balance against the wall that the trolly leans upon.

Submission granted to my kiss. I'm still caught in his attack, sundered by the power which he wills and it's a fleeting moment of vulnerability but in the midst of my battling distraction, I exploit the diversion that carries him out of my mind – Slicing his claws away from my thoughts, whilst teasing and taunting him with the idea of his loss of control.

My fears are bubbling beneath my touch but it is my saviour that sting below the brewing energy which sparks where my skin meets his marble skin. Now so close, I can feel the heat of the darkness that radiates off of him like a dying star which is blowing up into light so slowly that I can bask in the rays, momentarily.

He kisses me back after a hesitated second, his back leaning against the trolly and the wall whilst his gloved hands fist into my carefully brushed hair, knocking my crown off of my head and locking the pair of us into orbit as if all the gravity is sucked only into this dim room of belongings.

I can't believe I had just done that. I had just shoved him out of my head as if I had as much power that runs through his own veins. I chuckle into his mouth, uncaring of the whimper he elutes from my fingernails that pinch his cheeks.

There's a new desire which builds in my chest, and it's one that I have never been intertwined with before. Controlling. Feisty. Powerful. Commanding. It's dominating, and I only drink on the strength it conveys, quickly becoming drunk in the glory.

It stings him when I bite down on his mouth but it reminds me of the pain I felt when he began to sink into my mind, so I bite down harder, to which he groans at and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Blood seeps into my mouth, mixing in with the intoxication of my mighty high. I smirk into the kiss, running my silky and excited tongue along the small and insignificant wound that I had brought to his plump and rosy lip.

Kylo Ren shivers and slides his leather hands along my hips and back, arching his waist into me as he falls into this shocking power-play. He finds it nearly as intriguing as the desire I stir in the tension that only seconds ago, could have snapped completely and torn my future into dangerous shreds.

Liquid fire burned in my veins, scorching my skin more than it ever has before as it is a beautiful concoction between fear and passion. His mouth was soft and warm, tasting just like a forbidden fruit – As sweet as the plums from the orchards, which I had been punished by stealing a secretive, sinking of a bite into, every summer, for it was the elation of the taste that was worth the damaging scars.

Running high on my new-found confidence, I slithered my hand down his chest and down further until I cupped his growing erection, which was still potently hard and thick beneath his drapes.

He bucked into the touch and moaned groggily, throwing his head back against the wall and parting away from my strong kiss. When I noticed the flustered crimson that spread along his pale cheeks, I swallowed the victory, only for it to spread like wildfire into my guts.

Shamelessly, my core was throbbing, needy and hot, but he did nothing to help this when he nibbled at his bottom lip, the blood seeping into his own mouth and sinking into his gums as he did so, whilst I only palmed him further.

He moaned loud and I trembled with desire at the sound as his hands only pulled my waist to his own, wanting more than my mere, clothed touch. His body is not quite his own as I set a languorous pace, holding him beneath my hand. I smile smugly. The most dangerous man in the world, and yet look how he writhes for me.

I stop my pace and he growls, flicking his eyes open and scowling for more but I only tut at his impatience, remaining, ferociously in control for once. Just when my fingers curl around his belt and undo the loops, they then play at the zipper of his pants, only to recall the very thing he had said to me, days ago.

I chuckle and repeat them, uncaring of the sarcastic lacing to my drunken tone, "If you want something, you have to ask me for it."

His mind follows my words soon after, conscious thoughts yielding to sensation and correlating to the way he had sinfully teased me with the very phrase before. I begin to zip down his pants, but his silence stops me halfway.

He curses, "You bitch."

I laugh at his words and shake my head, to which I cower into his neck, whispering into his ear.

"Ask nicely." I purred, to which I swear he trembled at. He bowed his head, close enough that I was able to pepper kisses along his scarlet jawline.

Flashes of imagery, tastes and textures, my hand brushing the apex of his thighs as I torture him on the edge of closeness. It is an entirely different kind of mastery, and I am the ruler of his control as he rasped his next words,

"Please."

I pulled away from his raven-hair, giving him a wide-eyed expression but a sly smile to which he bit his lips at once again, "I don't understand what you mean..." I chime, my hand swirling delicately over his pants, "Tell me what you want."

And just like I wished, he fell right into my trap.

"I want you." He growled, but he was coiled up like a spring which was about to snap with reprise. I smashed my lips against his once again, but just when he was leaning back into it, I pulled away.

"Let me hear you then," I said, the same way he had done to me as I writhed pathetically beneath him upon the painting, "Let me hear the future King of Jorkhan and Supreme Leader of The First Order, curse."

The realisation of his title doesn't hurt like I thought it would when I spat them just then. I feel almost numb beneath the desire. But at least, I'm not scared anymore, it's almost peaceful actually in the warm air, but that isn't what litters goosebumps over my flesh – It is his gaze that is the cause of a warming rapture in my chest.

He licks the blood back off of his lips and I know there's some upon my own too but I don't care for then he sucks a sharp breath inwards.

"I want you to fuck me." He moaned and I reacted to the sound as if it was the new national anthem.

I sucked a sharp breath in and against the humming of the forgotten banquet, his belt buckle clinked completely loose and I began to work on the opening of the rest of his pants as he moaned in harsh drawls.

The power comes easily to my fingertips and with a subtle grin, I barely think about the fact that he could easily swap the power-shift to his benefit at any moment now, but still, his hands only softly curl into my hair.

I fit so well against him, small and perfectly formed to his large and broad body. Pressing his lips to my forehead is a thoughtless gesture, but one that brings home just how dangerous this is, though the worthy of it all, is inconsiderate.

But just as I was beginning to sink to my knees before him, the door we had come in from, snapped open and a fiery ginger girl stormed in.

"What are you two doing!?" She snapped, flinching slightly at the scene only before narrowing her harsh eyes back onto me, who was just about to pull out Kylo's hardened member from beneath his drapes.

Ruby scoffed, "Get into the banquet, they are about to start the formal dance and you are already, incredibly late."


	23. Dancing With Death

Before the golden doors had even opened to reveal the banquet, the music fills the air without effort, just like how the crimson floods both of our features, as Kylo and I are still slightly tipsy on the elation that Ruby had plucked us out of before we could even submerge. 

"Shoulders up, Princess." Ruby marks me out just before she opens the doors, uncaring of Kylo's brooding presence at my side. 

The music floods in and smacks against us harshly as I am met with the scene. There's an ever-present rushing of glee that surrounds the hall and many react to Kylo and I's arrival, by smiling and even extending their hands for firm shakes, but Kylo doesn't bother to even spare the guests a second glance, as I only merely wave to the strangers.

The intensity of the banquet to my nerves was as if liquid adrenaline had been injected right into my blood stream and I soon forget about my previous power-switch over Kylo Ren, as I begin to cower behind him, but Ruby only tugs me back into the centre of everyones hazy eyes with a tight grip around my wrist. 

It was as if the sea of the crowd had separated for our path, almost shining a metaphorical beacon for all of Jorkhan's elite to view our presence, the Princess and the future King, who would replace the old and haggard one who sat by his Brother on the high-table, as drunk as anything. 

The resemblance to this banquet and the one that celebrated the return of Prince Dayvis, who I hadn't yet spotted anywhere in here, was like turning back the clock. A master of the spinning reversal of time to throw me back to a previous night of agony and trepidation. On that night, the music sounded just the same as tonight's, and it only sung to my frizzling anxiety as I remembered what had happened that night, when Prince Dayvis pointed a knife to my heart.

I hope that Prince Dayvis is already too drunk and had been taken back to his quarters, or that he just won't show up at all – There's nothing I need more than to not have him around me. 

Our entry flowed with a dazzling grace that took away the breath of every person in our audience. In the sudden glimpse of epiphany, I couldn't tell if it was the serve of adoration or the dawning oppression that danced in the people's eyes as they stared to the dark and dangerous man by my side – But either one of those options, cannot ensure a greatness to come.

Finally reaching the stairs to the high-table, I glance away when I make heavy eye contact with the King, who stares through his wine glass. Kylo takes the lead quickly, using his long legs to mount the stairs and stride off to the men of The First Order, who looked like they wanted to be there as much as Kylo did, with their empty faces of misery, as they each watched the crowd as if their happiness was their enemy. 

Ruby leans down to whisper something into my ear curtly, "The partnered dance is coming up later and it is expected that you and Kylo will lead it, due to this being your formal banquet."

"You didn't think to tell me this sooner?" I snap, keeping my voice in a hushed and dangerous tone but masking it in a bright smile for the intoxicated people that surround us as we make our way to our seats, "I don't even know how to dance, why haven't you taught me?"

Ruby pinches my arm as she loops it into the crook of her own, sparing her greetings to the public with her _best-friend_ by her side. "Everyone is too drunk to notice if you have two left feet or not." She grits through her teeth, "Besides, the male is always in the lead."

The rest of the banquet was sipped quickly away, just like my two glasses of wine, which Ruby was clearly observing after recalling how intoxicated I had become last time. 

If the dread and fear weren't so strong in my stomach as I tried to swallow the meal placed in front of me, this sight below would be something from a mystical dream and I can clearly picture myself waking up any moment now, with a starving stomach and a dirty home surrounding me. The banquet celebrating the Princess' birthday was the most delightful dance of graceful ball gowns, tailored suits and marvellous cheers. It was a pleasant atmosphere to be surrounded by, if you weren't the main attraction, I suppose. 

The food lacked nothing but good taste, as it was a bitter type of meat that was almost too thick to chew, but it seemed that everyone on the high-table was enjoying it, although Kylo Ren was yet to even pick up a fork or a smile. 

The music was never subtle either, almost striking me dizzy with the spectacular tunes and beats they played, and yet, it was shortly compared to my heart-strings which shrieked with ill feelings for the girl who sat beside me, slowly sipping on the same wine which I had already deserted from my now, empty glass.

A dull tremor erupted through my system unceasingly when the worries laid like cement back over my bones. I pray that Kylo cannot sense their return from the far-side of the long table or even over the heavy tension of the bubbling atmosphere.

After the way he had handled me and threatened to read my mind, I knew that I had to try and focus on hiding my emotions as discreetly as I kept my secrets from him, and although it sounded hard to do, there was nothing else I _could_ do, for it seems as if this portrayal will become the rest of my hell-like fate. 

A torturous and demanding fate that I had never asked for and yet, I can't even keep the one thing I needed more than anything else, it seems, as Anwar was also tied into this twist of providence, more secretly than I had previously assumed.

As I watch the crowd with an emptier gaze than the men from The First Order, my mind constantly searches for a way out of this whole mess, not just the banquet, but this life. It's cruel the way I had just fallen helpless to the King's condemning, and I wonder what would happen if I ran away, vanished, disappeared, just the same as the real Princess had? 

My heart only caves at the idea. It's a highly unlikely reality, but there is no way I can picture a life out of these high walls, without the result of me taking my own life. 

It is Ruby's voice that brings me out of my daze, whilst she raves about the food to her nameless friend beside her, who looks as if he is already nursing his hangover by chugging the wine in his glass sickly.

I shove my food around with my fork aimlessly as I listen to her boasting, not even sparing a second glance at Kylo Ren at the other end of the table, my future husband. I sigh to my meat, falling back into my mind once again, wondering how this twist of cruel fate was surrounded by him, and yet, none of it was his intended or knowing, fault. 

People below are constantly calling me out, waving a greeting as if we had known each other for years and congratulating me on both my birthday and engagement, and although I am not who they truely think I am, I always give them a distant wave back.

It's an adoring crowd, most definitely a stark difference to the riots of the slums who are supposably trampling the streets. There is no danger or even an inkling to a fight or resistance in this hall, where the privileged eat off of golden plates instead of scrambling for scraps in an orchard. 

Suddenly, the trumpets blare and that's when Ruby nudges me in the ribs and tells me to rush to Kylo and begin the dance. Many react to the trumpets as if it is an alarm, others continue in chatter, but always it speaks to them in some manner as they all move to the walls or their tables, leaving a space in the middle for the couples to begin dancing. A lively tempo lifts the tension as I sit wide eyed at the dancing guests, for Ruby has done nothing to elevate the spirit, or move them to dance like she tried with me, they just chose to begin themselves. 

I glance back to her with a fearful expression, "I can't!" I shriek low to which she pulls me by my shoulder and grits into my face,

"You have to. Now go get him." But just as she tears her gaze to the end of the table, where the raven-haired man sat, she cursed, "Where is he?!"

I turned my head back, glancing past the King and his Brother who began to collect their cigars for departure, and then to the end of the table, which now sat empty of The First Order men.

I was washed with sudden relief, my indignant rebellion calming beneath the soothing waltzing tune of a death dance which I didn't wish to participate in. 

Ruby scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Come." She deadpanned, clasping onto my hand now and leveraging me upright with her as we both now stood. 

Furrowing my brows, I only flinched my hand out of the grip of her thin fingers, which were as cold as her heart, "What? Where?" I asked, just while the dancing crowd began to enlarge into a flowing stream of happy faces and melodic limbs.

The ginger girl chuckles, still playing her part whilst I only scowl at her, "You and I are going to dance." She says, narrowing her eyes intimidatingly, and I am about to scoff at her but when those icy blues sharpen to the King behind me, I understand her true intentions and weakly nod. 

She leads me back down and into the dancing crowd, to which the music struck up a different tune around them, which I hadn't heard before. I flick my eyes around the partners with a terrified gleam in my eyes as the sweat begins to bead at the back of my neck. They're all couples, consisting of one man and a woman, and when Ruby leans back into my ear and tells me that this is a historic dance for the couplings, I bite my lip at Kylo's missing presence and fret that he had known this dance was coming and fled before he had the chance to grow embarrassed at my unrhythmic abilities.

"Is this allowed?" I murmur back to her, referring to the fact that we were both females and someone may think that we could be ridiculing something so historic. 

The ginger girl only shrugs, and for once I am grateful for her lack of remorse or care, "It hasn't been done before, so I guess we will find out."

I stay there by her side, feeling broken and small, whilst a thousand pair of eyes are trained onto us and there's a long pause of the music in my own mind, as I become wasted in my own anxieties that run like lava falling down a mountain in my chest, scorching my heart with panic.

I didn't know what was worse, having everyones eyes trained onto Ruby and I as we make our way to the centre of the hall, or the possibility of having everyones eyes upon Kylo and I, if he was here to take her place – Where was he anyway?

Just as Ruby takes the lead, holding one of my hands already but then twining my other hand into her own tightly, she squeezes my fingers harshly as if there's a warning in her grip that threatens me to not mess this up as everyone dances circles around our still frames.

Just as the music begins to carry us, with its melodic tune of soft violins and the plucking of a harp, a tap is felt on my right shoulder and I watch Ruby's eyes meet the figure behind me first, before I turn my head back to the disruption. 

My hands immediately rip out of Ruby's and try to find safety away from the man, but once again, Ruby only keeps me in place by gripping onto the fabric of my sleeve. 

The beat of the drums is only a muffled muse compared to the tremendous banging of my heart. I wanted the man to step further away, but it was as if he had read my mind and smirked at the idea of doing the opposite.

Brown hair, chiseled features, devilish eyes and a sly smile – Prince Dayvis moved his hand to my waist and curled his fingers around as he glanced to Ruby and grinned further before looking back to me, who shook in his hands like a leaf in a storm.

"Mind if I take your partner in this dance, Ruby?" He bellowed onto me, but his words were not directed.

Ruby nods and and bows before the Prince as everyones peripherals glide to him and I, _the siblings of the crown._

"Of course." Was all she said, but before she swiftly spun around and walked to the opposite end of the hall, away from the high-table, I noticed the way Prince Dayvis nodded slightly, only to her. 

There was a message in his eyes, one that I couldn't uncover, but never-less, she understood it clearly as she nodded back in this silent conversation that I was left out of. 

I shuddered in his grasp, a war raging within me, when those eyes then turned back to me.

"Sister." He drawled, and I pinned a curse into both of his taunting gaze and tone. 

When his fingers eloped into mine, I barely hung back onto him, my fingers outstretched away from his knuckles as he began to guide me into a simple dance of a circle, with barely any steps needed in his lead.

I'm awaiting for the moment his smile fades into a scowl and he takes this advantage of our closeness to plunge whatever weapon he secretly possesses, into my guts and to twist it in further for his own sick pleasure, but a blade never comes.

"Dayvis." I hummed, pursing my lips tightly and refusing to look at his smile anymore. I was being held firmly by my greatest enemy, and he only seemed amused at my efforts to gain distance between us as he twirled me and only pulled me in closer by the waist – Almost too close to consider we were supposed to be forged on the same blood and cultivated with the same values.

Prince Dayvis tilts his head to the side, never looking away from my disgruntled features as I try to figure out how to properly move my stiff feet to this loose tune, "How are you?" 

I roll my eyes to the beat of the drum, 

"Considering the fact that I am still recovering from you trying to kill me, not so good." I snap.

He only countered my remark flatly, after sarcastically glancing around to the other distracted partners in this dance, who no longer cared for our presence. Ignoring my tone that was sought to taunt him, he seemed coy with the toying of his mind tricks as he replied, "Might want to keep your little slum voice down." He said with a calm demeanour despite his meaning, "Someone might hear about the King's biggest secret."

His grip on my waist only tightens and my eyes widened briefly as terror seized me as unyielding as he held me in this dance. Then pushing me back into an elegant spin and then snapping me back into place before him, I felt a if I was a puppet on his string, the same way he had tugged me into begging for my life the last banquet.

I chuckle, uncaring of his words for nobody was listening to our murmurs beneath the music anyway, "Only the King's?" I narrow my eyes into his, "I am certain these people won't be happy with both your's and Ruby's involvement if they found out."

He laughed low, which surprised me with the value of my words. He moved the two of us smoothly to the tune, despite his soft rumble. Then moving his head to the crook of my neck, his lips never made contact with my skin like Kylo's would, but he still enforced me with firm severity as he whispered, 

"My involvement, hm?" Prince Dayvis hummed, then moving back out of my ear and giving me a cocked brow, "Ruby told me about you finding out about her involvement, quite funny when she said you also nearly punched her teeth out."

My features fell suddenly and a prickle scorched every inch of my skin. _He knew about Ruby's secret?_

"You know her whereabouts too?" I gawked, referring to the lost Princess.

His chuckle made my flesh now, crawl. I then began to silently struggle against him, but he seemed stronger than he looked as my attempts were useless in the beam of his amused smile. 

"She's my darling, Sister – Of course I know where she is." The Prince tutted sarcastically, insuring to still keep his boast at bay so nobody but I could hear, "In-fact, I helped her get there myself." He added, his breath fanning my face with the mist of delusion.

_What?_

Suddenly overcome with perplexity, I furrowed my brows and asked him, "So, you mean to tell me that the King is the only one out of the loop?" I said with a hushed tone but a glimmer in my eyes to find out more, "What would be the consequences if he _sadly_ , found out?"

This time, I smirked but his never fell.

"I'm not quite sure." He faked unknowing, then licking his bottom lip like a snake would before snapping his prey's spine in half, which his hand was now brushed over. 

"But Ruby has informed me of the result of your own consequence if you were to play a part in him figuring out." He added and my heart was crushed by his white teeth that he smiled to me with. 

I gasp low as the fear begins to build in my chest painfully.

"Anwar." I speak, but I didn't mean to breathe the name out loud for him to hear. 

He snickers, _"There you go, you're getting the hang of everything finally."_

A horrid sensation seeped torturously into my heart and mind, striking me with the need to save myself from this situation and as my nerves ran over every possibility, it seems they only became jumbled in the messy knotting of my thread-like worries from before.

My lips parted in sudden verity and when my features shifted into a dwindling expression of sneers and jabs, I snapped at the relocation of Anwar and Ruby in the barn, talking in complete secrecy.

"Oh, that's right." I chuckled, mimicking his smile and playing on that same power-shift high from earlier, "Did she also mention how they knew each-other?"

His smirk falls and that's exactly when I realise that this was another secret that he was in on, and by the feel of his panicked hand that held me so close, I understood that I was never supposed to know that something was going on in plain sight.

Once filled with hopelessness, I now indulge on his shocked eyes and just as he tries to collect the right words to protest my victory with, the drums slow and the trumpet takes its place once more, leaving all the dancing couples to let go of each-other and bow whilst clapping to the finale of the tune.

Still in the monster's grip, my pestering count was cursing the tension between the Prince and I as we both tried to read the silence for answers. The smothering air could have choked me on his bitterness but the vehement reminder of this revelation was too sweet to not enjoy.

But suddenly, Prince Dayvis loosens his grip and flees the scene before providing me with the information that I truely needed as I watch him storm through the crowd, even shoulder brushing with Kylo Ren who made his way over to me now, whilst his First Order guests linger back to the high-table.

Releasing a breath that I hadn't realised that I was holding tightly in my chest, I turned to the dark and brooding man who made his way over, with a masquerade of indifference to the guests around him. I could feel the frightened throb of warning in my heart but as I smiled to Kylo, I merely felt nothing.

I peered into his dark eyes with guarded curiosity, "Where were you?"

Kylo Ren merely shrugged, "I don't dance." Was all he said and his lack of interest and emotion was a stark difference to Prince Dayvis, who had completely disappeared in sight.

Shaking my head and what had happened away, I laugh lightly to the Apprentice beside me, who then wrapped his gloved hand around the small of my back, replacing the sinful burning of the Prince's grip.

"And you think I can?" I blurt, forgetting about the fact that he doesn't know that I am not the Princess who has been to a thousand banquets before. I cover it up with another laugh, "You could have at least spared me the embarrassment of taking me with you, so I didn't have to dance with my Brother."

He doesn't seem to notice my slip up, or even my words at all for his attention is turned to the doors which briskly open and the people who all move out of the way for whatever had been wheeled in.

My eyes were trained on the spectre of the entrance, my heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink, as the irises expanded and nearly shoved away all the colour for all the pastels had been splashed onto a cake which could only resemble the clouds of my dreams. 

It took three female servants to wheel in the swirling white cake which had candles on each layer, it looked so soft and tasteful but as they set the table in the middle, my stomach only lurched at the sight of the triumph of sugar and flour, towering with buttercream and strawberries to bring it that celebratory colour as the flames of the candles flickered and the guests cheered, causing waves of nausea to overlap my misery. 

It sends me into a memory of the pig that they brought out for the first banquet and how everyone, _whilst already full_ , devoured the crackling skin of the pig just because it was roasted perfectly. But when the cake was wheeled on the table before me and everyone circled around, I felt as if I was the pig on the roast for everyone to cheer for and sing in glory whilst the cake is merely the celebration of my-not-so birthday.

I'm trying my hardest to act normal with no hint of hesitations, but all at once a shrilling fever elutes over my skin and scorches me with the fear of people realising that I am not who I pretend to be. With everyone's eyes on me in this dreadful moment, where the candles flicker their blaze to my heated face, I am terrified that they can all see the slum girl within, who if granted the opportunity a few weeks ago, would have clawed her fingers into this cake and devoured it all. 

The King returned from his cigar break and did an overly boastful speech about the night and my birthday, then sprinkling a gratitude to my _spouse_ , Kylo Ren and how much the Order will change Jorkhan _for the better._ And after I had blown out the candles and cut the first slice, I merely handed the plate to a random whilst the nausea began to bubble in my stomach as I noticed the deep, rich cocoa that was the flavouring on the inside. 

"It's chocolate." Kylo leaned down and murmured into my ear, "You said not long ago in the stables, that you enjoy it."

My mouth goes incredibly dry and my tongue twists, but upon meeting the deep and alluring clutches of his brown eyes, I immediately tried to mask my inner mess of emotions and thought of nothing more than that day, on the hill with the chocolate that Anwar had given me, just so Kylo couldn't find another reason to question my inner battles that he can feel as well as I can.

"O-Oh?" I smile, "You remembered that?"

Kylo nodded meekly and gave me a sly grin which for once, seemed so genuine in this overly-faux hall of pretentious people. I felt a sudden yearning fill me, and I wished that I could at least give him a gleeful smile in return that didn't feel as distressed as it was. I wondered for a split second as I leaned further into him, with his hand wrapped around my back, what Anwar would think of this yearning? Would he spit upon my longing for Kylo Ren, or simply ask where mine for him, had disappeared to?

It's a bittersweet tugging that both men, unknowingly, tear me to shreds with my embracing infatuation of them both, but in totally different ways. 

I suppose that Anwar may have my heart, _I am not quite so sure_ , but I was certain that Kylo Ren completely owns every other part of me, and for some reason in this shift of a longing, I wished that I could give him more – If it weren't for the fact that my soul depended on that decision and that he may be my true, arch-nemesis which will bring this planet to death with those murderous hands which held me close.

The thrill of music began once again and the chandeliers only shimmered with the thudding return of dancing feet. A handful of servants were the only others that found the courage to mingle on the dance floor, crossing it swiftly with trays held up above their heads containing wine glasses which occasionally spilled and laced the floor with extra dangers, only moving the already intoxicated people some more. 

With the two of us stuck in the middle of the crowd, nobody cared for the man in his dark drapes and the lightsaber by his side as they all just continued their dance with their every movement full of flowing poetry. And yet, it seemed the music was truely living in his eyes as they glazed onto me with prosperity. 

"Here." A voice beacons out to us and pulls me out of the honey gaze. Ruby stands before us, in the midst of the flooding party with a wine glass in each hand. The rim of the wine glass was a perfect band of gold but the rest of it was clear to showcase the scarlet which slightly and uncommonly, fizzed like stars inside of the liquid.

There's a pensive smile on her features, matching the freckles as blemished upon her porcelain features, and when those rosy lips perched upwards, my blood only dropped for it cannot be a good reason for her to ever be really happy. 

She passed both Kylo and I, a glass each and when I took it out of her hands hesitantly, her fingers were so cold on the warmness of the bowed glass, and I furrowed my brows at the slight bubbles in the warm wine, which should have been cold – How long had she been holding these glasses for them to be so warm outside of the ice-cold jugs that they were poured from?

A flash of scrutiny flickered across my features and I raised an eyebrow to her to which she only smiled brighter at. Kylo was barely paying any attention to her, only sparing her the benefit of snatching the other glass out of her hands, but with the thick gloves on and the fact that he held it by the stem, I am sure he wasn't suspicious of the warmth of the liquid, or the uncanny grin of Ruby's that reflected in the crimson.

"Drink up." Ruby chimed, resting her empty hands now on her hips and sucking a breath of laughter in as if she was intoxicated, but I had watched her the same way she was investigating each glass of wine that I drank on the high-table, and she had only sipped from one glass, "It seems like it's going to be an eventful night." Was all she said before twisting back on her heel and beginning to walk away. 

I watched the way she quickly pushed through the crowd and flew towards the grand doors as if her life depended on it and with the knowing of her presence now gone, it should have lifted my spirits somewhat, but as I held the glass of wine which she had given, panic returned to my system like a stormy cloud descending over the thrashing seas below.

Everything no longer made sense to me and the fact that I was even second guessing the warmth of a glass of wine, was beyond me – But it was her cruel, departing smile that sent chills all through me.

Flashes strike me suddenly, to which when the realisation burns through my soul, I almost drop the glass of wine to the floor. 

The Prince trying to kill me. 

Ruby keeping the Princess hidden away. 

Anwar and Ruby. 

Ruby and the rat poison. 

I gasped as sudden certainty had become my new personal ally, confirming a deep fear which had just shattered and a blast of cold wind struck me, almost making me completely winded as I gaped at the _fizzy_ wine – _Wine isn't suppose to be fizzy,_ was all I could repeat in my head in the suspended second that felt like I was stuck in time for all of eternity as everyone began to dance slow around me and Kylo, who was just about to raise the glass to his plump lips. 

Panic rose in my blood quickly, almost sending the rush of crimson to turn into ice as the heat inside my body was replaced with a biting chill. But despite the icy-burn, flames of Ruby's true wrath began to engulf my whole body, scorching it completely even without her presence near and I shrieked in surprise as I reacted fast and snatched the glass out of his grasp, to which the wine slipped slightly out and speckled his crisp gloves. 

"Don't drink that." I snapped, holding the two glasses in my hands now and meeting my terrified reflection in the glass, unsure of what to do with the poisoned wine – But when a servant walks by, golden tray high in the air, I irrationally place it on his tray, to which he ignorantly keeps walking away with them in the direction of the back wall, where I suppose the kitchen lies. 

Shocked, Kylo Ren wipes the laced liquid drops off of his gloves and onto his black drapes. Everything seemed to be still moving in slow motion and the only thing that were in normal speed was Kylo and I – And my heart, but that seemed to be racing faster than ever before. 

"Why not?" Kylo questioned, lacing his fingers around my wrist and inspecting the fear on my face, which I quickly tried to change as if this was a masquerade party instead. Jarred to my senses and brutally smacked out of my reverie, I fought inside my mind over why Ruby would try and poison both Kylo and I? 

My heart twisted painfully. Why was Anwar the one who had given her the rat poison? 

Kylo's eyes are flickering upon me impatiently and his hands only grip onto both of my wrists harsher as he awaits an answer, which will never come – Not until I have real answers.

"Because – I don't like wine." I merely lied, shaking my head and swiping his words away as if I didn't care to explain myself – And I didn't.

No longer was I drunk with the feeling of Kylo's body close to mine, but I was forced into sudden clarity as I tried to look away from his eyes and over the thousands of heads, just to make sure that Ruby was gone.

_I have to go after her!_

I struggled in Kylo's strong grip, to which he barely even flinched his brute away. 

"Well, I do." He replied, furrowing his brows at my disinterest and my sudden need to get away from him as I then began to crane my head around the room, now in search for Prince Dayvis, who I knew now, was most definitely involved in the second attempt at killing me.

"What is up with you tonight?" He snapped, still handsome never-less, but his jaw tightens whilst his dark eyes shift in the advancement of the party which could have ended up as a celebration for both of our deaths, if it wasn't for me figuring it out before he drank from that golden rimmed glass.

Still scanning my eyes around the room as it begins to also spin around me, my gaze falls on a servant who begins to walk up the stairs to the high-table, and then onto the orange flame of hair. It was like a sharp shot of an arrow to my heart at the sight but I only suck a sharp breath inwards when I realise it isn't Ruby, but General Hux.

I swallow the lump in my throat, glancing back from over Kylo's shoulder and back into his eyes.

"General Hux is waving you over." I say, nudging my head to the General who sat far on the high-table behind Kylo's back.

Kylo growls and shakes me in his grip as he rolls his brown eyes into white momentarily, 

"He can wait."

Feeling claustrophobic in the crowd as the overbearing need to flee and find answers hijacks my system, I shake my head to Kylo and sigh to cover the beat of my heart that rattles behind its cage of bones.

"It looks urgent." I lie once more, for General Hux is barely even awake as he pushes his untouched cake on his plate to each side with his fork, obviously bored as he even refuses the wine that the servant tries to give him. The servant cowers away from the intimidating man quickly, only to shrink inside of his shoulders once again as he places a glass of wine before the King instead.

Kylo Ren only shakes me in his grip once more as if he is trying to beat some sense into me whilst the crowd only becomes louder in my own ears. His stare is brooding, dark and mysterious all at the same time but it is his mouth that makes me believe that there is no reason to fear him anymore, for the real monsters are outside these doors right now, and I must find them and demand answers.

"Princess," Kylo breathes, fanning his cool breath of wine onto my face to which I shiver beneath, "If something is happening or bothering you, there's no reason that you cannot tell me about it."

Wide eyes and pupils dilated, I shake my head.

_I can't tell him. I can't tell him. I can't tell him._

Then ripping my wrists out of his leather grasp, I hold them to my chest and cower away, twining the reddening skin on both of the bones as it burnt in the tear of his gloves. When I notice the hurt expression contort his features, my heart pangs and I try to ignore it as I give him a simple and fake, closed smile.

"I–" I stutter, trying to make another excuse but I can't fabricate anything so I just say in my defeat, "Wait here." 

And that's all I left him with, standing in the middle of the cheering and boasting crowd, _as I ran away._

I fled his embrace and practically nudged people out of my way as I stormed onwards to the grand doors which both Ruby and the Prince had left by. I moved quick and uncaring of the shrieks of guests as I accidentally knocked their glasses out of their hands and onto their rich clothes.

I feel as if I am trudging in quicksand, the same from my nightmare that I had many nights ago, but instead of drowning in the crowd, I am only forcing myself to keep my movements potent and quick. The doors seem to be further away than usual with this sudden panic, and my fate was quickly transformed into a fleeting ignition of broken reality where I now seemed to be fighting more for my life than I had previously presumed.

I practically threw the doors open when I finally reached them and I snapped my neck both left and right, trying to find any clue as to which way they had possibly gone. 

I bite the inside of my mouth harshly in anger as I felt as if I had been snipped away from trust, from insight. My life had become a game to these people as if I was their enemy! _The wine and the imitation was all a ploy_ , I thought bitterly. Ruby and Prince Dayvis have been planning to kill me since the start! But why bother? The Princess clearly didn't want her place back.

Running into the direction where I had met Prince Dayvis for the first time near the marble pillars, I cursed to myself when realised I hadn't even smothered a knife or anything out of the banquet, just incase they decided to kill me more physically after their weak attempt was futile. 

My butter-knife that sits underneath my pillow, seems to mock me as I slow my footing when the courtyards darken in the distance away from the banquet. 

I curl my arms around my torso and my panting begins to mystify in the cold air. Night came like the spell of an enchantress, casting the green grass into a frosted white and warranting a lack of remorse to the flickering candlelights that hung from the pillars. There was no hint of warmth left, promising to steal my frightened heat with indecent speed.

The two moons in the sky were only halves of their true fullness and the indentations reminded me of the sickening smiles that the two people I sought out, could possess. The sky was dark and low, the air so chilled it hurt to breathe and I knew this was a bad idea, but nothing stopped me from continuing my hunt. 

But then all of a sudden, knocking all the cold wind out of my beating chest, a strong grip wraps around my forearms and pins me against a pillar, to which a bruise is surely forming quickly on my back with the force of the strength. 

Wheezing for breath, my eyes widen as they meet the scowling and furious sight of Prince Dayvis, who snarls as he swaps his hands and uses his arm across my collarbones to shove me further into the marble pillar – But that isn't what haunts me, it is the silver dagger which presses up to my neck just enough to draw blood and elute a whimper out of me. 

The fear laughs at my ignorance loudly in the beat of my own heart as the light drains away from the far-off banquet and leaves barley enough for our shadows. It is as if where we stood was a nightmare realm as he threatened to slice my neck in the silence, for even the stars and moons cower behind a dense layer of cloud, seeming as if they were crawling away in fright too – But I can't crawl away, I can barley move with the prod of silver triggering a stillness in order to prolong my life.

I feel the tension and hear the intensity in his tone, "You're suppose to be dead." He snarls, his lips somehow still finding the light to form a pensive smirk, which his top teeth graze over. 

I gasp and try to find the words to speak but just as I am about to plead for my life, a voice drawls out of the darkness and to where the Prince and I are beneath the flickering candlelight, and I am ready to scream for help, but when I notice who it is, I only realise my death is inevitable.

"What happened to the drinks?" Ruby asked.

My chin wobbles, but I only force out a breath of exasperated laugher, which rattles and croaks as I mix it with my words, "I knew about the rat poison." 

If it weren't for my position beneath a sharp knife, I would have taken another victory in the shock that hits Ruby upon my words.

In that frozen second between this stand off, I see their eyes flick from me to each-other. Their faces are unreadable in the darkness, no confusion, no usual smirk. I am panting with trepidation and the ricochet of tears is slowly burning behind my eyes with a threatening need of release – But I refuse to give them the benefit of seeing me cry for the life that they had ruined and then eventually, killed, as they then turned back to me. 

"Who else knows?" Ruby quickly asks, glancing in every direction to ensure nobody was around to see my murder. 

I ignore her and instead focus my attention to Prince Dayvis, who I try to fight off of me. Stuck in a struggling effort to throw him away, he only chuckles low and I feel the very rumble in my own chest as he then lifts me away from the pillar swiftly, only to smack me back against it. 

A sharp but dull pain erupts all over my back and my spine almost punctures through my muscles and skin. 

Just when the stars begin to spin and my eyes droop heavily in pain, Prince Dayvis spits into my face, "Who else knows about the rat poison!?"

I shake my head groggily and glance to Ruby, who originally asked the same thing, "Nobody. I saw Anwar give it to you in the stables."

Swallowing sharply and blinking slow, a heavy but brittle tension forms in the air between us three and in the silence, I almost beg Prince Dayvis to get it over and done with already, slice my neck open and end this overwhelming dread that I posses, but he never does and I never ask him to either.

Ruby sighs and curls her fingers into her palms and for a second, I fret and flinch at the possibly of her laying her fists onto me in anger, but instead, she only calmly asks, 

"Where's Kylo Ren?"

This causes me to chuckle. The Prince only pinches me sharper with the tip of his blade, now pointed into my jaw as the blood begins to seep to the top of my dress, falling like silk down between my breasts as if it was trying to find the location of my heart to be pulsated back where it belongs.

"Answer her!" The Prince shouts into my face and although his voice was loud, it was nothing compared to the celebration inside the hall, far away where nobody could hear me even if I pleaded for a saviour.

I scowl into his eyes and tilt my head away from his knife, but the blade only follows my angle. 

"He's alive, much to your dismay." I taunt. 

Ruby curses and throws her fists to her eyes, rubbing them and then smacking them to her sides in frustration, "Shit."

Prince Dayvis only growls like an animal once more and then shoves his arm that was across my collarbones, into my neck which splatters my blood onto his sleeve and leaves me screaming in silence at the slight cutting of my airways. 

"I'll do it, Ruby." He grits, just as I begin to claw at his arm, "I'll kill her right now and end it all."

What he said, should've made my knees weak but instead, it only made me stand taller and whisk an airy and weak laugh out and onto his cruel face.

"Then what are you going to do?" I chime, my face beginning to redden as the air only sinks into my lungs in small amounts, "Find another replica for the Princess or invite her back to take her place? After-all, both of you seem to know of her location..." I wheeze, but it is enough to make Ruby storm closer and smack me across the face, to which Prince Dayvis moves his arm back to my collarbones.

"You fool!" The Prince then joins in, to which Ruby gives him a warning glance and a finger of scolding, but he only continues. 

"Dayvis–" She begins, but cuts her off with his next round of shouts.

"The Princess is dead!"

My muscles tighten even more beneath his deadly grip, strained so solidly that the bones beneath them feel as if they will snap any second. All at once, my world shifts once more and once again, I am stuck in the hazy state of confusion. 

With lips of blue, I gasp, "What?"

"I killed her." The Prince chuckles, but then falls silent only for his lips to set into a triumphant smirk, "Just like I am going to kill you."

I try to scream but he only blocks my airways with the pinch of the knife returning back to the already torn flesh of my neck. I am awaiting the sinister embrace of death, I am waiting for the total silence to bury me, but silence never comes in my panic, only a familiar voice who pulls the sharp knife away from my neck and then pushes the Prince to the other pillar. 

"Wait!"

I wheeze a rush of air into my lungs, coughing and spitting blood onto the white rose-bushes where the edge of the pillars meets the courtyard's gardens. My heart twists and my stomach does a dreadful churn as I meet the sight of a blonde boy, heaving angry breaths inwards beneath the misty moonlight, which could never resemble the beautiful glow that the sun gave the boy during daylight. 

"Anwar?" I rasp, furrowing my brows at his intrusion.

He ignores me, still focusing his attention to both Prince Dayvis and Ruby, as he blocks me from their gaze with his outstretched arms from behind. 

"You promised that you wouldn't hurt her." He says. 

I straighten up behind him, my blood already beginning to dry without a blade inviting more to seep out of my veins. I watch the way Ruby rolls her icy eyes, then staggering them down to both Anwar and I, her gaze sharper than any knife the Prince could ever possess. 

"So, it is true... The folk of the slums really are dimwitted." She chimed, looking to the Prince beside her, who scowled to Anwar and held his dagger even tighter by his side.

Every part of my body seems to hurt, but it is my spine that leaves the rest of me weak.

Ruby only turns back to Anwar and begins to walk forwards fearlessly, as if not even a storm could sway her out of her desired path. 

She meets my eyes once again, and I stared, silently and determined not to look away first. I was certain that she was trying to hide something behind the clarity of her blue orbs, but it seemed as if I was going to find out all the answers soon. 

"If she doesn't die, then The First Order will own the land!" She practically barked and I even saw Anwar flinch and take a slight step back away from her as she only continued, "They will perish this planet, don't you understand?"

Anwar seems to have fallen silent and I only flick my eyes to him once before taking his place and standing up for myself, "Why would you care?" I snap, narrowing my eyes and swallowing roughly, to which the slice in my neck burns at, "The First Order only wish to force the poorest into enlistment. That doesn't affect a single person you could ever care about."

My words were true and she knew of this as much as I did. She hated the slums. She despised the poor. So why would she care? I wonder for a short second, but she only shakes her head and scoffs,

"You really think you know everything, don't you?" She shakes her head and licks her lips, as if she wanted first taste of her cruel words she was about to poison me with, "The First Order don't want the people. They don't even want the economy. They secretly just want the planet so they can turn it into a weapon – A weapon to destroy other planets!"

Taken aback, her words seem to have swept me off my feet and left me swirling in the chaos of my own mind, which tore down every theory that I had previously presumed and anticipated, for what she had spat, was nothing like I could ever muster up. 

"I-I don't understand." I shake my head, looking to Anwar for clarity, but he is barely there in his physical form.

"They're going to pick through the people, kill the weakest and brainwash the strongest." The Prince chimes, his voice now much calmer than it was before, but I still don't trust his white knuckles that surround the handle of his knife, "And then, by using the power of both of our sun's, they will blow every planet that they consider to be an enemy, to bits by replacing our soil with a weapon."

Tears flooded my eyes and my lips dried right up, along with my tongue – As if now, I really am drowning in that quicksand from my nightmares. 

A weapon embedded into the soil? Power of the sun? Blowing planets to bits? 

This was all so much more deadly than mere poison in a wine glass. The First Order truely were cruel. They really were the plague to the Universe... And I had grown accustomed to their main abuser who basked in their darkness. 

"This isn't home anymore and it never will be, it is a land of destruction." Anwar says slow, placing a hand onto the small of my back, where Kylo's once laid. I flinch away from his touch.

"W-Why would the King let them do this?" I stutter to Ruby, my face falling like a boulder down a mountain, to which it then crushed my heart amongst the surface. 

"He doesn't care, he thinks that The First Order will make him a leader of some sorts – But in reality, they will most likely kill anyone who has a relation to the throne, once Kylo Ren has taken it." Ruby answered, truthfully, this time.

"That means you and I." The Prince interjected, flipping the knife in his hands now and then pointing it to me, "Well, not really you." He added sarcastically. 

I twist my features upon him and scowl at his confidence and calm demeanour despite the situation. "Then, why did you kill the Princess and replace her with me?"

A low whispering of a storm to come, bellowed through the courtyards and a slight mist of rain began to settle around it. I couldn't help but compare the night with my own state of mind. Just like these thick clouds, my insides were in a chaos. A mess of jumbling fate and adrenaline for survival as I face my enemies but they point their fingers to the real monster of them all.

Ruby interjects before the Prince has the chance to speak, proving that them two were truly in on this together, since the start.

"She was the main threat to Jorkhan. If we got rid of her, Kylo Ren had no way of being forced into the line for the throne." She says, sighing a cloud of warm breath into the cool air, "But when the King found out about her disappearance, he found a way to trick the Order – _With you."_ She motions to me and suddenly, the fake birthmark seems to burn my skin metaphorically. 

The Prince chuckles once more, finally lingering back to where Ruby stood and meeting her side only to point his knife in my direction once again. 

"That's how we got here now." He tuts, then tilting his head to each side as if he was inspecting my fearful features, "And we decided that we had to take both you and Kylo out at the same time, but you ruined it!"

Anwar now steps forwards again, furrowing his brows and threatening to shove Prince Dayvis back into the pillar with the intensity in his eyes, whilst his fists also curl.

"You tried to kill her?" He gawked, "You promised you wouldn't lace her drink with the poison!"

I suck a sharp breath inwards and turn to the blonde boy, who I had considered my life long friend. The boy who had saved me and the man who had turned me into the person that I am today.

Acid forms in my stomach and rises all the way to the bottom of my throat, lacing my words in that same toxicity as I snap them to him, "You knew about this all along?!" 

He looks stunned for a moment, furrowing his brows and tilting his familiar face to me as his shoulders fall somewhat, "I started trading horses to the Kingdom last summer..." He murmured, flicking his home-like eyes all over my face, "I always thought it was remarkable that you looked so much like the Princess – And I must of mentioned it to her when Ruby was around... I'm sorry."

The tears flow down my cheeks unceasingly and my face contorted into a grimace. Upon his words, I feel all the blood in my body go rigid and cold as my skin must have turned pale and clammy in the moonlight. 

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw myself to the ground and either punch my fists into the ground or into his chest. The cry sat at my throat, needing to be released as it had a raw quality which tasted like pain and my now, bleeding heart. 

I stare at him brokenly, I knew then that I had lost him, even if he had _so-called_ returned for me – But right now, I was the one that stepped away rather as he tried to grasp onto my hands with his own that I used to want to place my own heart into for him to keep safe. 

Ruby broke the silence once more, to which it seemed as if nothing was as loud as the quiet to her and she constantly needed to fill the gape with her own, pitchy voice. 

"If the King was going to replace the Princess, we at least needed to pick someone that had no ties." She drawled, clicking her heels in closer, "And thankfully, your only tie was to Anwar."

Anwar looked away now, as broken as I was. He has weaponised his emotional indifference, abusing rather than cherishing my loving emotions as he seemed to plunge a knife deep into my chest with this uncovering of truths that he had kept me astray from.

More tears escape my eyes, running away upon my cheeks and mixing into the blood that ran down my chest, which the slice of flesh is nothing compared to the pain inside me. It is a lingering pain, one that I will never be able to comprehend. The loss of a trusted friend. 

"You – You told her about me?" I whispered, my voice shaking to the rumble of the skies and the sounds of the distant banquet, "How could you?"

Anwar's chin wobbled but he still didn't look back to me, much rather invested in his own shoes than the pained expression of mine, "They promised us a future away from poverty and war, if I told them where you were and helped." He croaked. 

I hadn't noticed that my own fingers were curled, but with white knuckles from clenching my fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, my sadness was a confused shift between that and anger, as my face flushed red with both sorrow and rage and just when he turned to finally meet my glossed eyes again, I snapped. 

"Fuck you!" I shouted, "I don't want a future with you!"

Sadness suddenly flees and leaves me only with rage. All I feel is anger, all I feel is that I don't want to be friends with anyone at all because then I don't have to trust anyone, for there is nobody to trust in this world anyway!

I try to claw my way to the blonde boy, but Ruby only grabs me by the arm like she always would and shoves me into the direction of Prince Dayvis, to which he lurches forwards and grips onto my shoulders, his blade merely directed to my skin now. 

Ruby sighed a deep and tired breath, 

"You won't have a future at all, if Kylo Ren takes the throne." 

She points out, and I go weak in the Prince's grip, but just when I am about to protest, a hundred shouts and screams escaped the banquet beyond. 

The sound of fear itself tore through the tension like a great shard of glass, one much sharper to gash open the night sky, deeper than the cut in my neck.

I felt my eyes widen, pulse quicken and my heart begin thudding like a rock rattling in box. They were the kind of screams that sounded desperate and scared to the intensity of the wrath of the causing. And as everyone began to flood out of the banquet in the distance, I squinted as I watched the guests all run into the opposite direction and the swarm of StormTroopers take their place inside the hall.

Eyes wide with horror, mouth rigid and open, my chalky face went gaunt and immobile as my fingernails dug into my palms, alluding crimson blood – But I didn't care for the pain as flashes of only moments ago, swarmed my mind and beaconed with sudden interrogation, to which my recollection only provided evidence to the distant cry of one guest who screamed, 

_"The King and his Brother are dead!"_

Prince Dayvis' grip went slack and my body went stiff as the four of us fell in total, shocked silence. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart and I am certain that is all everyone else heard as the screams only muffled. 

The anxiety in me, only managed to grow in the confining of my chest. It was more than just a slight burning that ran underneath my skin. No, it was as though someone had attached a live wire to each of my nerves and then plugged it into a cloud filled with electricity, to which I awaited the first blow of violent bolts, any minute now, as a result for my negligence.

"What did you do with the poisoned wine?" Ruby simply said, staring lost down the courtyard where everyone now seemed to have run far off to the exit of the Kingdom. 

I swallowed roughly, to which I assumed all three of them heard it, 

"I placed it on a servants tray." I replied. 

The silence only returned as we all realised what this meant, me more so than the rest as I recall watching the servant who held the glasses, walk up and present it to General Hux to which he declined, meaning the poisoned drinks intended for Kylo and I, were in-fact, given to the King and his Brother.

The Prince only scoffs, a lacking of sadness in his soul for the loss of his Father, which I had truely, murdered. 

"Well, congratulations." He clapped a big hand onto my shoulder, to which I flinched beneath, "You just killed the King of Jorkhan."

His voice brings back the intensity from before as Anwar begins to pace and curls his hands into his long and golden hair, whilst Ruby only curses once more and stomps her heels to the ground.

"Fuck." She scowls, pointing her long finger now into my face that cries endlessly, "Do you realise what you have done?!"

Brick by brick, my defensive walls came tumbling down. As much as I tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from my throat as the stream of salty water fell without a sign of ever stopping. 

"W-What?" I sob, "I didn't mean to do anything!"

_"Long live the new Queen."_ The Prince only sighed behind me, taking his hand off of my shoulder and then lingering to the side of the stone courtyard and sitting with his feet in the rose-bushes.

I sucked a sharp breath inwards, "I'm the Queen?"

Ruby shook her head to me, her eyes soft but demanding as she tried to explain the consequences of my stupid, mistake.

"A Queen can't singlehandedly rule Jorkhan." She said, then holding her pale hand to her heart to curl her fingers around the golden pin upon the fabric that symbolised her alliance to the fallen King, "Your engagement will only be moved closer so Kylo can become the King."

My chin trembles and I only cry harder. Then throwing my hand out to the Prince, I pathetically stutter, "C-Can't Prince Dayvis just be the new King?"

"Not unless you die." He chimed from his new spot, throwing his knife into the dirt and never turning back to us to speak. 

My breath gets caught in my chest and I know the panic is gaining in on me slowly at this sudden understanding. I breathe in shallow and find a way to release the tension, but it never leaves. 

There is static in my head once more, the side effect of this constant fear and constant stress that I embrace unwillingly. 

I hear my own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside, as I locked eyes back with the icy blues of Ruby's.

"So, what?" I croak, my fate crumbling with the mess of my shattered heart around my feet, "I have to die?"

She opens her mouth to speak, but it isn't her own voice that follows my question.

I turn to him and he turns to me also, 

"No." Anwar shook his head and promised, 

_"Kylo Ren has to die."_


	24. Queen Of The Orchards

My heart was dim but the world was shockingly colourful.

The weather was calm despite my frazzled nerves, but the _noise_ , the noise was almost overwhelming after days of only listening to my inner fear's voice, who was the barer that cradled my trembling body to sleep every-night when Kylo Ren had finally drifted.

On those nights when the silence was even too much to breathe in, the sharpness in the air simply was enough to snap my bravery into sharper pieces than the butterknife beneath my pillow that I would cling onto, and yet, I still never found even a petite strength to plunge it into the heart that beats behind his flesh chest.

I know eventually, I will have to kill him – For that is required if I want this world to go on. And though, I had gone over it a thousand times with Ruby, begging her to figure out a different way to unleash the foreshadowed casket of the world, without needing to kill Kylo Ren to save it, her answer, _every single time_ , was the right one – There is no Jorkhan in The First Order's evil grip, only destruction and not only for the people among this land, but for many life forms upon other planets too – That is, if they are deemed the enemy by the next ruler of this monarchy's grounds, which they will dig up and bury a weapon into the generous soil.

I sit in the throne room, a gentle breeze saying in from behind the pillared, wide balcony which wraps around the back of the room, behind me, but not even the gentlest pull of the weather's touch could stop the boiling of my blood, which burned ferociously beneath my fragile flesh – I killed the King of Jorkhan. I, _unknowingly,_ poisoned both him and his Brother, and now... I have to somehow kill the deadliest man in the Universe, whom I share a bed with.

The most trusted advisors and the King's men, were all on a hunt for the _King Killer,_ and although it was a man-hunt, the murderer was the one that they knelt before and handed their allegiance into her delicate hands. Traitorous bile rose to the bottom of my throat, I am a slayer – No different to Kylo Ren. It's a match made in heaven, although, the sadistic part that doesn't feel guilty in my soul for accidentally poisoning the King, deserves to go to hell.

The funeral was tasteful, though a little grim. But now, the Kingdom's people seemed much more brighter than their previous faces of fake melancholy, for today the sun was as golden and glorious as the crown that was slowly being brought forward down the aisle between the bowing heads, sitting softly on a royal-violet, coloured cushion – Slowly and tenaciously, shining to my dull anxiety as it made its way over to me, held by the hands of a man who enters wearing a surcoat robe, with jewels lined down and wrapped around his neck, signifying an importance which my life of slavery in the orchards, would never be able to understand the symbolism.

The wealthy people of Jorkhan all line the streets and parade the soil beneath the balcony behind me, cheering to my false crowning and boasting for the new monarch. Ruby had told me that The First Order have deployed more fleets of StormTroopers onto the streets today, mostly to contain the uproar that still burns in the heart of the slums – Where they cry only to my ruling, blind to the imitation I play, ignorant to the fact that I am one of them too.

My chin slightly trembles when the evangelist of some-sort, begins reading from an ancient scroll which enlists concordats, which only adds to the new responsibly that lays heavily upon my weak shoulders.

His voice is strong enough to even boom above the shrill voices clanging in the air from outside the palace walls, and I cringed back with an invisible snarl, wanting to smite all the people in the throne room or perhaps, poison them for adding onto my burdens with their pleasure of my crowning, even if it is only a shadow of a figment tied ever so briefly to the real horrors of my fate.

It's sickening to think that by the destruction of my own morals, I would be their true, _unknown_ , saviour – But what then? I will then have to play 'Queen' until the day of my death. Maybe, I should have just drank from that golden rimmed glass and only pushed the poison closer to Kylo's lips too... After-all, Ruby Mayse and Prince Dayvis had turned out to not be the true monsters, they were only trying to save the world from the real ones.

There is an air of pomp and circumstance that exonerates into the packed hall, events like this are what royals do best, often showcasing their wealth into the many banquets, but now... Well, in about an hour, all that money was about to become mine, until next week where I will be wedded to Kylo Ren. I wasn't able to contain my horror when the announcement had been made. A preposterous matrimony on only the coiled strands of the King's departure? How ridiculous!

The tall and handsome man, who's strength carried death and war, stood tall around the cuffing of the stairs that led to where I sat potent on the throne. With General Hux by his side and accompanied by more First Order representatives, I wondered if this ceremony is something to resemble the glory that a Supreme Leader receives? Will Kylo Ren one day, after seeing the downfall of his own Emperor, or being the one to kill the man himself, be crowned the ruler of the Order?

Ruby and Prince Dayvis stand on the other-side, a sense of frigid vexation, blazing in Ruby's cold eyes – Most definitely, still nit-picking at everything she had done wrong in her attempt of killing me, just like she had killed her best-friend, the real Princess, who should have been the one being crowned today, instead.

Prince Dayvis had warmed up a little though, coaxing me through multiple ways that I could end the Apprentice's life, only they were too graphic and aggressive that I often had to tell him to stop before I became ill.

I was fitted into a lavishly designed gown, one much more precise than the others that I wore, and my hair flowed freely without my old crown to weigh it down – But that wasn't going to last much longer.

The man with the scroll stepped forwards, inviting the Prince to stand beside my throne, for he is the only other royal in this _bloodline_ – The only royal left, at all.

The Prince was jittery, obviously slightly annoyed that it wasn't him being crowned, but I'm certain beneath his crown, that he is already planing another way to kill me, once The First Order are gone.

"Prince Dayvis of Jorkhan, the son of the monarchy. The youngest of the crown." Said the man, who wore all white with a silver sword hanging by his side, resembling slightly to the lightsaber that shined amongst Kylo Ren's belt, although the burning weapon was much more dangerous than pointed silver.

Prince Dayvis nods slightly, raising his shoulders to the crowd and only breathing softly behind his tense drapes of riches, but then, obviously knowing what was to come, he knelt before the man in-front of me, to which the scroll-reader continues,

"You kneel before me today, because you are the only son of the late King, and the sibling to the next ruler. With the crown, the Princess will represent more than a brith-right, she will represent further power."

A shiver runs up my spine as the throne room falls impossibly silent, clinging onto every word that is spoken to the kneeling Prince.

I glance to Kylo Ren, who has wrapped his hands tightly behind his back and when he gives me a small, closed-smile and nods his head, I quickly tear my eyes away from him as the guilt builds in my stomach.

"Do you, Prince Dayvis, believe that the Princess is worthy to wear the crown of the monarchy?" 

A breath hitches in my throat and I snap my gaze to the kneeling Dayvis, who merely stares at the crimson carpet below him as if there is an answer in the rich strands.

I can see it all swirling in his eyes. His real Sister's death and then a slum girl replacing her. The numerous times he had insulted me, held a dagger to my throat, the amount of times he had fantasised about him being the one to be crowned the next ruler of Jorkhan – But he had no choice to allow it, even if he could stop it, there would be no Jorkhan to rule over.

Finally, after a short and deadly silence, the Prince of Jorkhan answered, "Yes." Then glancing up from the carpet and sparing me a knowing glance before returning his eyes back to the speaker, "I, _Prince of Jorkhan_ , do believe my Sister, _Princess of Jorkhan,_ is worthy to be granted the crown of my Father."

The man lowered the scroll and nodded, "Very well."

Gripping my hands around the arms of the chair and clawing into the cushioning, I had to fight every fibre in my body, which dragged sharply and scraped every crevasse of my heart and emotions until pricking at the corners of my eyes, to not allow the tears to fall down my painted cheeks.

Then, the man in white looked to me and I gulped at his heady stare, "All rise." He spoke, and after being prepared briefly by Ruby for this moment, I did as he said, as did everyone else in the room who was already sitting.

My legs wobble beneath my dress and my knees feel so stiff that I can almost hear them creak with each shake, below the intense beat of my chaotic heart.

Prince Dayvis takes his time to stand and only then, do I notice the sword by his side too, but he makes no attempt to retract it from his belt and stab it into my chest.

I glare around the room through the hazy blur of my brewing tears, still so shocked at how my life had twisted. On a sunny day like this, I should be out in the orchards, with dirt covering my fingers, not silk gloves.

I wondered for a split second, what Anwar was doing right now, was he tucked to the side of the hall doors, listening to the crowning through the golden panelling? Or was he sitting in the stables, furrowing his brows to the change of destiny, as-well?

I bite the inside of my cheek. I do not care what he is doing. He betrayed me. He's the reason that I am here, in the first place.

"Princess of Jorkhan, the first born of the late King–" The man then, carried all the attention back onto me as Prince Dayvis stood beside the throne.

"Do you believe that you will carry the legacy of the late King and prolong the greatness of Jorkhan, whilst it is in your power?"

Like Prince Dayvis, I didn't answer straight away, too abruptly forced into the cradling of my own wild thoughts – The legacy of the late King. Meaning fulfil all of the duties he had left, meaning go on with the treaty that was formed with The First Order and Jorkhan.

I swallow my truth harshly down, "Yes."

Then raising my left hand, I raise it to the two men who start to walk over the crown and a robe, which looks as if it weighs twice as much as it actually does, as if it is actually soaking wet beneath the plush fabric.

The man with the scroll continues, the wrinkles on his face that line his authoritative tone as sharply as they fall off of his tongue, making me believe that he was the one to crown the late King too.

"And do you, believe that you are worthy to wear the crown of the monarchy? That you will be the one to carry this world to greatness and bring the people underneath your ruling, peace and prosperity?"

I didn't need to think twice as I glanced back to the dark Apprentice. He will be the one to crush the world to pieces, but if I do end up wrangling my courage together and killing him as easily as I had unknowingly murdered the King, I would be the one to bring peace to Jorkhan.

"Yes."

Ruby nods ever-so-slightly, approving of my allegiance and imitation. No longer can I despise her for her games and torturous sneers, this was about life or death now, and for once – We are on the same side of the war grounds.

But no matter how many times I could promise the man in white or the crowds around me, the ginger girl's voice lingers in the back of my mind, warning me of what is to come next.

_"A Queen can't singlehandedly rule Jorkhan."_

"– And when the time comes, do you vow to hand over your power to your betrothed? Entrusting him with the legacy of the King's?" The man interjects my thoughts again.

I can feel his stare burning through my soul, even before looking back to him once more. My mouth goes incredibly dry and my tongue twists, but upon meeting the deep and alluring clutches of his brown eyes, I immediately tried to mask my inner mess of emotions, so he can't see the intense battle between my morals and need of survival.

"Yes, I vow to."

"Then, with the overpassing power of the Kingdom, in the missing place of the previous ruler, I give my full trust and loyalty to you, the first born of the King." The man nods, closing his scroll and giving it to the man who then passes him the robe in return.

As he drapes the fabric across my shoulders, a muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of my cheek and my mouth formed a rigid grimace, but I quickly replaced it with the same bland features that I had contained for most of the ceremony.

The man stares to my face as he adjusts the fabric around my neck and even in this new stance of glory, I felt so incredibly worthless beneath his gaze that I struggled to stare into his own eyes.

He turns swiftly and widens his arms to the crowd and the man with the crown, takes that as his cue to slowly bring the heavy gold to my head.

"With the new power of the Queen, she shall bring lasting peace throughout the Universe, and strive to bring greatness to Jorkhan!"

In my own mind of swirling intensity, the room fades out from the edge of this paradise of brilliant colours and cheering smiles as the gold crowns my head, bringing more weight to my shoulders – My own trepidation tries to protect itself as my heart caves in, and when the people of Jorkhan cheer for their new ruler, it only becomes a thundering noise to my ears, which then echoes even louder as everyone outside and through the twining streets, adds to the severity.

"Long live the Queen!"

In my own conscience, the crown dematerialises or shatters to the ground to my feet, breaking into shards of jagged glass which ricochets down the stairs and to the man who begins to climb it.

But my crown only stays strong, despite my crumbling soul which is already trying to find those fabricated shards to cut my life loose from this prosperity of ignorant fear and vexation – And when Kylo Ren wraps his hand around my own, which trembles uncaringly, he gives me a reassuring smile and leads me to the balcony, where everyone of importance as already fled to.

"Long live the Queen!" The shouts are only growing in their thousands or millions, but as I step out onto the wide and spacious balcony which overlooks the grand people, I can't help but think that the people of the slums are chanting to my death.

Under a blue sky, the two suns are even present to shine against the reflection of my new crown, to which the crowd below, goes crazy for. The colours of their fabrics were vibrant and unweathered by the wintry onslaughts that the previous weeks had brought to this planet.

Those demeaning tears prick my eyes once more, and even if Ruby and Prince Dayvis stand to one side of me and Kylo stands to the other, I can't help but be grateful that from this far, the people of Jorkhan cannot see the terror that I posses in my eyes as I glance down to their joy.

Trumpets blare in the distance and crowds yell enthusiastically. Musicians play their cheerful tunes and foreign beats, creating a majestic, _yet_ , boastful atmosphere.

Even above the beat of my tender heart, I could hear everyone screaming with joy and even could feel their feet disturbing the ground below as if the vibration was flowing into the air above. Bodies moved together as they chanted, rhythmically breaking into shapes and colours that tickled at my cold blood.

The celebration was a riot of festivity as everyone was a little more hyped up than they should be. My eyes ate up the scene of thousands rallying around the edge of the Kingdom, all trying to get a glance of the Princess, who had been hidden away from the public during her teenage years, only to now parade the crown above her head.

I stand rigid beneath its weight and even as Kylo curls his hand around my waist, I can't help but feel my blood run cold. It is a destroying feeling in my chest and I can feel it in the emptiness of my heart, a shear of nothingness that somehow takes over and holds onto my soul, threatening to kill me entirely, before Kylo even has the chance to crumple the people below to their knees.

Their chants could echo in my mind for the rest of eternity and with every repeat, the pain inside only intensifies.

_"Long live the Queen!"_

_"Long live the Queen!"_

_"Long live the Queen!"_

"Long live the Queen." I whisper to my own reflection in the pool of water around my naked frame. The gold of my crown still shimmers in the beautiful ripples of the bath, for I was too emotionally weak to even peel that off of my head just yet.

I can still hear in the ever-present silence, the cheers, the whooping of warriors, the yelping of maids, the scent of a feast still lingering on my skin from the small banquet which was held after the crowning, which I had snuck out of as soon as every glass of wine was refused to me, after what had happened with the King.

"They still think the killer is lingering," Ruby had shushed into my ear, "It is best we just play along."

I tried to stay a little longer after that, even despite the tug of my guts to flee, but when I sat in the King's old place in the middle of the long table, overlooking the banquet as Kylo Ren sat by my side, talking to the General – I couldn't help but wonder what the King's face looked like as he started to feel the claws of poison, soar through his bloodstream and stem itself into his cruel heart.

Even now, after I had swiftly walked out of the banquet and to my own quarters, to then peel off the grand dress and dip into the warm water of the bath that I had brewed without the help of timid servants, that is still all I could think about.

Did he scream before his life was cut short? Or did he just twitch, writhe and shake in his chair as the lines of his gaunt face only sunk in further and then plunged into his dessert plate, where my cake sat untouched previously before him?

I shook my head at my own reflection, I saw nothing. Not a grimace, not a wince, not a tear in my own eyes. My face was blank and the heart behind my ribcage was empty, and that struck my soul to my very core.

I took two lives, one being the most important of Jorkhan's. My spectacle of demise had worn thin, it was no betrayal to silence him for good, it was a mistake and although he deserved it with his venom, his greed, his cruelty, and his foolishness in threatening many, I still couldn't believe it was _me_ who had practically handed him the poisoned drink, _which was intended for me_ , by putting it on the wrong server's plate.

And now, I have to figure out a way to kill _another_ man.

The butterknife beneath my pillow was always the best option, but it was the lack of strength that kept me from plunging it into Kylo Ren's heart, even if it is an evil beat that he gives – But seemingly, not to me anymore.

The mark had been practically burned into my skin below my eye, her birthmark proving my legitimacy, scolded me as I tried to scratch it off but it wouldn't budge as it was stained on this morning. Ruby had mentioned even tattooing it onto my skin, for I was going to be keeping this imitation going on for the rest of my life – But I couldn't bare to forget the old me entirely.

I was still that dull-spirited, fragile thing from the orchards, but now, I am the Queen of Jorkhan and everything in it –the Queen of the orchards. I shine brighter than any glossed berry that I could have plucked, dimmed only slightly by the tainted twist which tugs on my own morals.

I sigh to myself, I finally had a moment to relax and yet, I cannot loosen the tensing of my own muscles in the hot water in the large bath, which resembles a pool.

I didn't have the effort to even drop some soap into the running water, I only let it run around me until I was completely submerged in the crystal-clear liquid. I swipe my hand through the water and listen to the sound of it still running in the facets, but all at once, I let out a sob and add to the water with my own.

The sounds of my cries and hiccups echo in the marble bathroom, but the running water does enough to quieten it down behind its own rush. Though alone, I feel more self conscious than I already did, as the crown on my head is only more glorious than my previous one, but it is my frail body which doesn't cling for life in the midst of starvation anymore, which scolds me. Tough no longer a slum girl, I feel so weak sitting and crying alone. I had a whole lifetime of pain and hard lessons in the form of brittle survival and now I only mask it with beauty and glory.

I twist the golden faucet off in frustration, but that only leaves me to mope in my own saddened noises. I grit my teeth, hands tangling up in my hair that sticks to my cheeks below the golden crown which begins to fog in the steam of the bath.

I had nobody to trust in this life. Not even Anwar anymore. And the only person who I had allowed myself to be vulnerable around in the midst of all this mess, was the brooding man who I was supposed to kill – And even then, Kylo and I had never been close to being heart warmed by each other's presence, it was always purely sexual in the form of proving power.

All of a sudden, my brittle crying halted as I heard footsteps outside of the bathroom door. I wiped the tears off my face, roughly, as if it would make me feel stronger, despite the fact that nobody would be able to tell in the bath, unless the rims around my eyes were as red as they feel. I held my legs close to my chest, with nothing else to cover my naked body and I waited, tensely.

I could tell who it was, just by their harsh footing and it didn't surprise me when Kylo Ren opened the door swiftly to be met with my shaking frame and fogged up crown.

My head rushed with excuses to make him go away, and I felt so embarrassed, but I knew that no matter what, there was nothing I could do to ever make him go away, unless I do find my courage in this clear water and run to get my butterknife.

Kylo Ren stands tall for a short second, simply taking in the sight of the Queen naked before him, but then he takes a short step forwards and eventually stands by the edge of the bath, breathing softly and twining his leather fingers into the gloved palms of his.

"You left the banquet early." He hummed, as if I couldn't see him running his brown eyes down my bare legs which were crossed over my intimates, my knees barely covering my breasts.

My throat dries up to his presence but my sorrows only grow. I look to my knees nervously and nod my head, my voice small in the silence of the marble room.

"I know." I say.

Kylo shakes his head and furrows his thick brows, "But I didn't," He interjects, the intensity of his black drapes, sneering to my nakedness,"I had to look for you."

I imagined him tearing through the sweaty bodies of the crowds, swiping away every handshake that was directed to him and sneering to the strangers like he usually would. I wondered, did he fret for a moment that I was possibly killed like the King? Did he worry that the tying between The First Order and Jorkhan, had been cut loose?

I swallow roughly and sigh, "Well... You found me."

Kylo licks his bottom lip curtly, keeping his brows knitted together as my refusal to look anywhere but the reflection of him in the still water, becomes a beacon to my disinterest.

"Are you okay?" He asked low, his tone a deafening hum to the thrill of my blood.

I couldn't find my voice. I felt my cheeks flush hot, and my stomach became a heard of butterflies. My heart pounded in my throat, threatening to break out.

The guilt in my guts was ever-present though, reminding me that no matter what, my destiny now required me to find a way to rid his life.

"Yes, I–" I begin, but he cuts me off with a bored expression, the same he would give to General Hux during the banquets, obviously displeased with whatever was coming out of the ginger man's mouth.

"I can sense that you're lying, tell me the truth." Kylo demands.

I blink sharply and glance up to him, my chin trembling at the way he stared. His eyes were so warm, like a tender embrace only the soul behind them must be cold, to tell that he was deemed such a monster by many.

"I– I suppose that I am just overwhelmed from all that has happened today." I speak, my voice still quiet but he heard every word.

Kylo is silent for a second, obviously going over my own phrase in his head and trying to justify whether I am speaking the truth or not but thanks to my life of forgery, he was quick to believe me.

"Hmm. You did so well." He hummed, referring to my crowning with a small smile, "And you looked so beautiful... You still do."

His gloved hands unwrap from the fists he had, as if he had just realised how violent he must seem from his angle as I cower into the corner of the sloped tub which is embedded smoothly into the marble.

I fake a smile to his pleasure and nod my head once,

"Thank you."

Back to silence, he still stands tall and watches me in the tub as if he is trying to figure out what to do next as I only try to find a way out of the tub without giving him the satisfaction of seeing me so openly naked, as if I was comfortable around him.

Kylo eyes the crown upon my head, and suddenly I recall the way he had told me that he preferred me without it and it takes a lot to bite down the scoff I want to release as I think to myself, _he should see me in my rags then._

I shiver in my sadness that laps over the icy chill of the night's breath, which sways through the opening of the ceiling window that I had pried open with the lever, a couple of days ago. But as I crane my neck to look up to it, I snap my face back down to him when I notice through the corners of my eyes, him beginning to pry off his drapes.

I suck a sharp breath in and glance to the tall man, who didn't even spare me a look as he began to peel off his undershirt, revealing his toned and pale chest, his silver lightsaber shining in the moonlight so beautifully, only to then hide in the rumpling of his pants that he took off after.

"What are you doing?" I gasp, my eyes widening as he dipped into the bath with me.

It was obvious what he was doing, so he didn't bother to answer, only tucked his broad shoulders into the other corner of the bath from across me. I avoid my eyes from his naked frame, keeping them strained over his shoulder and to the vanity which shows the back of his raven hair.

After the thrashing of his movements through the water, it begins to still once more and I am surprised that in the return of the quiet, my blasting pulse isn't what disrupts the gentle stillness of the water, it his voice that vibrates through his chest. 

"I'm leaving the palace tomorrow." He explains calmly, "Most likely before you wake."

I furrow my brows and glance to his face, merely pushing my legs further together as I asked,

"What?" My voice was tender and confused, "W-Where are you going?"

He shrugs, leaning his elbows on the backing of the bath to which his chest expands and tenses in the new position. I quickly bite away the thought of wishing to remove the paleness of his skin with the red scratches of my nails.

"The South-Eastern regions of Jorkhan. General Hux has advised me that there are... Implements to enforce." Kylo hums.

My heart nearly penetrates through my chest.

The South-Eastern parts of Jorkhan? That's where I am from... That's where all the riots are happening. Could he be referring to the slum uproars?

I gulp nervously, is he going to violently put a stop to the tired slum-people?

"Well... Should I be the the one to be choosing what implements? After-all, I am the Queen." I ask, trying to seem confident despite my curled up position.

Kylo cracks a smile but shakes his head, as if I am a child who had asked the most obvious question of all time,

"Yes – But I will be the King soon and I am certain that I have more understanding of how to stop a revolt." He says.

I was right. He's going to the South-East to put a stop to the revolution that burns to disrupt The First Order's overtaking – I can't let this happen. I don't care if it is damaging to the world, the Order is more destructible than the grimy people that I once was.

"A revolt?" I ask, ready to fight for my people, "You're going to the slums?"

Kylo is obviously taken aback, narrowing his strong eyes into his pale face. "The slums... How do you know about the resistance?" His deep tone is undeniably questioning, but there's no lace of harm to the questioning, so I shrug the same way he had done so before.

I add to my tower of lies calmly, "I was advised before my crowning about the people that I now lead. The resistance of the poor to the eventual overthrowing of The First Order, is only growing... Isn't it?"

He nods, unknowing to my true intentions of plucking more information out of him, "Yes." He sighs, "But we will be sure to stop it before word reaches anywhere else."

Clarity hits me. As clear as the water between us.

The First Order don't want any planets around Jorkhan to realise what is going on, because they may figure out about the weapon that they want to embed into our grounds, only to then plummet their destruction onto them.

Fear bubbles once more in my stomach.

"So, you're going to the South-Eastern slums tomorrow, aren't you?" My voice is hesitant, restrained.

Oh, how I long to go back to my home – Only, it mustn't look like home anymore. Is it all in flames? Are the people beginning to rummage through every place for food in the midst of their protests?

"No. Just driving through." He chimed, bringing my heart to an abrupt stop with his next words, "We are going to the farm land and orchards to check out the... _Soil."_

My surroundings begin to spin around me again, the same way it had when I stood before the crowd in the midst of my crowning. My heart thuds in my eardrums, a thunderous tune and before I even know what I am doing, the words fall out of my dry mouth,

"Can I come?"

He chuckles for a short second, but when he realises I am being serious he furrows his brows again, "What?"

I swallow the harsh lump of acid in my throat down, it tastes the same as poison and although my conscience wishes it actually was, to shut me up from asking him again, I simply ignore the rational part of me and nod as I repeat myself,

"Can I come?" I ask, keeping my eyes upon his of perplexity.

He huffs a breath of laughter and shakes his head, "No – Why would you even be interested in going?"

My mind flushes back to the cruel orchards, where I had been gashed, whipped and scolded every single day. And yet, it is the memory of the sweet breeze upon my face and the smell of soil and tangy fruits which finally settles my heart to a beautiful pace.

I have lingered my gaze upon the orchards from the balcony, every single day since I had arrived here and in every single breath, I wished that I could be back there.

"The balcony." I chime, smiling through my deceits as my soul chimes for something different, "The view from the balcony overlooks the far orchards and I have always wished to see them myself, _ever since I was a little girl."_

Kylo hums to my answer, giving me smile which could cut me open in one quick turn but somehow, heal me perfectly once again with the beauty it possessed.

I flinch slightly when he moves out of his position and glides to my side, cupping his palm over my knee and brushing the skin wondrously and softly, as if he was a lover to my heart.

Between those two eyes that lay upon me softly, with the hint of a memorising smile, are every shade, every hue.

"Hmm." He hummed, a smirk ever-present, "What do I get out of taking you?"

My heart shatters into a million pieces once more. My fear begins to build in my moment of clarity, smothering me with its everlasting grip. I feel the wind shuffle through the window and the coldness stings the tears in my restless eyes, biting at the sheen of water, whilst a tension builds behind them, in the form of a powerful, furious boil.

"Forget about it." I scowl, folding my knee away from his touch, but his hand only then falls though the water and sways over the side of my thigh, reminding me that he will always be there by my side, unless I do something about it.

"You don't have to be scared..."

With his rough and deep tone, his words slipped off his tongue.

I tear my eyes once more back to him, the tension falling as limp as his hand, between us.

"What?" I mutter, for what seems, the hundredth time in this bathroom.

Kylo Ren's golden, brown eyes flicker to my collarbone for a moment and I suppose that he has just noticed the fading patch of purple which he had left not so long ago, as I see a certain gleam rise around the darkened pupils.

He speaks ever-so-softly as he runs his eyes along my shoulders,

"I could feel how fearful you were during the ceremony..." He says, "You don't have to be scared. I'm here."

Struck with shock, I don't back further into the marble when he raises a hand to my collarbone and swipes his thumb slowly across it. I try to avoid dropping my eyes to the toned torso before me, as he sighs heavily and the muscles upon his chest flex in his sudden honesty.

I lick my lips and forget about the tension that nearly suffocated me, only seconds ago.

"But I don't want to be _here."_ I add, giving him my truth for the first time in a while – And like he had before, when I said something similar, he understood what I meant straight away, as if he had read my mind like he had promised not to do so.

"I know." He nods, slowly dragging his eyes up my jaw and to my eyes as he pulls in closer, "You've said it before. You want to leave Jorkhan and the sense of monarchy, to which – I have promised you that I will take you away from it all, if you just let me."

His musk is intoxicating and I wished that the servants could bottle it for my next bath, for I would rather bathe in the rich scent of his danger than anything fruity or fragranced that they would often lather onto my skin.

I scoff to his words, despite my mind drifting off into the carrying of his senses,

"Away and then to The First Order?" I chime, my smile sarcastic as I roll my eyes to him, "Yeah, right."

The bath is beginning to become cold, the steam no longer trickling up into the air around us, but I don't pay it any attention as he warms my flesh with one hand now cupping my cheek.

"To The Order, yes, but not for forever." He says, his voice full of promise despite his often trickery, "Eventually, I will find somewhere else to go. Away from the Kingdom lights, away from hierarchy."

I slowly pull my knees away from my breasts, my hands staying idly by my sides as I become unsure of what to do. His sentence reminds me of the day we were trying to stay so still for the painting, which we ended up ruining and I repeat the words that he had spoken, for they had been embedded into the back of my mind ever since.

"To the stars?" I ask.

He nods, smirking to my crown and then back to me as I begin to curl my own hand around his broad shoulder, which had become trickled in silver moon-shaped indentations of my nails.

"If that is what you wish, my Queen." He breathes, leaning in to which I close the space without hesitation. But before our lips brush, he pulls away and says one more thing with a cheeky grin.

"But –" Kylo sighed happily, tilting his head to the side and enjoying my disgruntled and crimson expression before him,

_"I'll take you to the orchards of Jorkhan first."_


	25. Things Can Change

I woke up to a chill lacing the skin of my back in his departure, which made the strings of my heart resound like the chaotic plucking of a harp which was out-of-tune. He was already moving beside me in bed – I could feel his warmth slipping away, my body bent in a mirror shape of his own. I didn't open my eyes, content with feeling the heart-breaking tenderness of his thumb tracing my jawline to try and soothe me awake.

The knife beneath my pillow was long forgotten during the night, for with the rise of the sun – Kylo Ren had promised to take me back to the place that I longed to go and I knew, that if I plunged the silver into his chest, there would never be an opportunity of liberty like this to pass up again.

This morning, he cooed longingly into my ear and peppered warm kisses along my tender flesh, to which I only anticipated his powerful hands, insinuating themselves along the bareness of my thighs below the silk of my bunched up nightgown.

It was sickening how easily and instantly, I was aroused by his dangerous hands, the smell of him, the deep expressions he would give which were roughly followed by the dark tuning of his voice – It's a constant battle between my emotions and physicality, and my whole life I had thought that mentality always out-weighs a physical need, but after meeting Kylo Ren, it seems he has somehow hardwired me perfectly to only sought out his touch.

That doesn't mean I have become numb to my emotions, _Gods no_ – They were also stronger than ever and as I had been helped into the metal, First Order vehicle, I was unworthy to escape my hurricanes of anxiety which I hid beneath the calm of my expression.

My heart was beating fast and my fingers curled into my dress as I sat by his side and looked out the window – The vehicle on the inside didn't resemble the one that had stolen me and brought me to the Kingdom, there were plush chairs and belts, although they were not used by anyone, but that didn't mean that the exterior, which looked the exact same as the one I was thrown into by faceless StormTroopers, wasn't enough to make me feel incredibly ill.

After weaving through the labyrinth of roads, the town was peaceful and glowed with glory all around us just as Kylo wraps his large hand over the material of my thigh. Ruby – Who sat in the seat in-front of us, with General Hux by her side – Rolls her eyes at the gesture, which I only melted into.

Flocks of birds and bright faces gathered everywhere, to wave their handkerchiefs at the vehicle – Ignorant to the wrath that the First Order will give to their land if I don't do something about it soon.

It's a stark difference to ride along the clean and vibrant streets of smooth cobblestone and sovereignty. It was calm. Warm. A perfect paradise of pure serenity. But as soon as the cars drive through the golden gates which barricade the poor from the rich, it is nothing but utter chaos. Violent and dangerous. A hopeless but raging fire which burns in the dirty hearts of the slum's abyss.

It doesn't look like anything I remember it to be. Sure, the South-East was always dirty and poor, but never this... Ravaged. As I stare out the window, I can see the devastation lingering in every broken brick and shattered glass, and when the people start to notice The First Order vehicle, its as if they decided to pluck up every bit of their brokenness and begin throwing it upon the impenetrable metal.

The Riots. The Uprising. The Resistance – It was all true. The starving people run along the sides of the cars, trying to keep up and smash their hands on the tinted windows, smearing the grime onto the polish. Hundreds of protesters seem to arrive out of nowhere, with pitchforks, rocks and the ashes of the burdens that The Order had given them.

Even my favourite confectionary store is in crumbles behind the riots, only being the foundations of a hopeless memory where Anwar had occasionally bought me a slice of delicious chocolate from.

It's obvious that I am truely panicking now as my breathing becomes sharp and tears wield in my eyes, but just as Ruby kicks my ankle to get me to stop, Kylo tells me that everything is going to be okay and gives me a ghostly smile which could never fix the damage that he will eventually cause to all these people – And yet, arrogantly, my bones want to believe that warm smile, but it is the coldness of his eyes that always remind me of the stolen future.

I hate this. I hate the riots. I hate the Kingdom. I hate Kylo Ren and the way I am beginning to see the human within the monster of him. I don't think I can truely kill him, but every-time I think that, I am reminded that I didn't think I would ever murder anyone at all, and look at me now... I am two out of three down.

But I didn't feel guilt for accidentally murdering the King and his Brother, so why do I already feel guilty about the fact that I will eventually have to find a way to kill the _handsome_ man beside me?

He tilted his head – A movement so imperceptible that no one but me would have noticed, and I knew he was searching for a way to try and read my thoughts without actually breaking his promise. My hands travelled to his in my lap and softly nestled into the twines of his long and rough fingers, squeezing for good measure as I match it with a fake smile.

I'm already confident with what I had figured out in a very short time, revolving the knowing of the mechanisms of his body, so complicit with mine, but like my thoughts, his heart was off limits and I could never be the one to understand the motivation between the clash of cruelty and passion within his beat.

I flick my gaze away from his sharply and shake my head to my feet as the crowds begin to disappear around the vehicle, meaning we should be heading to the dirt roads that lead to the far-off orchards.

My stomach sways nervously as I finally pluck the courage to glance out the window and just as I am met with the sight of tall grass waving me a welcoming of awaited-return, the wheels of the vehicle begin to rumble and grind along the stones of the twisted, off-road paths.

I can smell the sweetness of my home and yet, I do not forget my new place as I clear my voice and ask the ginger girl before me, "How long until we get there?"

_Fifteen minutes, if the driver choses to take the left path – Ten if he chooses the right, where the road is much rougher and the tree-branches hang low, but the journey is much swifter._

"Shouldn't be too long," Ruby replies with a curt nod, her eyes avoiding the need to roll at my deceitful question, "Around twenty-five minutes."

_Wrong._

A left turn and fifteen minutes later, the vehicle drives through the wooden gates of the orchards and the beauty of it hits me splendidly. A breath hitches in my throat as the car parks beside the rickety barn, where a group of girls, wearing their dirty uniform of aprons and tearing shoes, all rummage through the scraps which is spread along the table.

Heart always beating fast, it pulsates harshly in my ear drums and I can't help but to think that it is playing to a tune of my eventual downfall, for it is clearly going to be impossible to act nonchalant despite my inner war.

As I am helped out of the vehicle by Kylo, the breeze hits me and lays its gentle caress upon my withering soul, but even the sweet air cannot dull the acidic spin of panic which rises in my chest and flicks sharp daggers into my heart.

Soil laps over our shiny shoes, but unlike the others, I do not grimace at the soot that my heels softly sink into.

It was still early in the morning, only a couple of hours or so after the sunrise. The dew was still fresh and cold upon the small patches of grass which grew around the dirt hill that the barn sat upon. The cool air was a wintry onslaught to the warmth which cooed last time I was here and as I scuff the toes of my shoes into the dirt, I can't help but imagine Anwar laying in this very spot, after a StormTrooper had knocked him down.

I furrow my brows softly as I begin to follow both Kylo Ren and General Hux, leaving Ruby to do nothing but stay by my side as the swarm of Troopers linger around us too.

There were no chirping of gleeful birds. There was no clear-blue sky. The landscape, as I remembered, was not the vibrant colours of summer, it was the ruins of a damaging winter, unlike anything I had seen before during my long years at this same orchard.

I gulp to myself as I finally notice that below the peak of the hill, which Kylo and Hux observed – _Probably planning where to dig first to imbed their weapon into the soil_ – There was only half the amount of fruit orchards that I recalled. Some trees were barely clinging for life, many had already been plucked out of the grounds and only some remained.

I turn my head back to the barn and only now, do I realise that there was only a small portion of girls in there, compared to the thousands which should be plucking endlessly in these once vibrant fields.

I murmur in Ruby's ear, "What happened here?"

She turns to me after ensuring that neither men were listening, "The storms, mostly..." She whispers back, "But I have word that The Order sold most of the last pickings. Most likely to fund their new... _Project."_

I blinked slowly, dizziness consuming me entirely. I breathed out a long sigh of sadness and turned around from the left side of the orchard which was so bleak to my defences. I had done my best every-single-day, to survive. I had fought. Lied. And even killed – Just so I could stay alive, and yet, all along, all this land was dying. 

My heart twists painfully in my chest, but I refuse to cry as I meekly glance swiftly at my reflection in the panning of a StormTrooper's helmet. No – I have to stay strong now. The world may be dying, but it is only going to get worse. There is nothing my tears can do to fix that, only my imitated courage.

But the anxiety is still _always_ there. Either it sits heavily in my chest, stands tall in the hair along my bumped flesh, jitters in my hands and feet or swirls behind the gloss of my eyes. No matter how much I have to tell myself to calm down, or how much Ruby scolds me for seeming timid, the anxiety is forever my new companion.

I feel as if I am drowning on such dry lands. My throat is coarse and there's a pensive silence lingering around the almost-empty, dead orchards and it is smothering to my senses as only the pensive beat of my heart can be heard in this wild panic.

But when his leathered grip curls into the locking of my fingers and tugs me into his direction, I am brought back to reality and the scent of apple blossoms to my nostrils. Heat spread across my skin immodestly with him peering down to me so naturally and as my gaze reorientates, it flickers form his beauty and then to the immaculate design of life that curls in the prosperity of the right side of the orchards.

The only thing to survive the storms, it seems, was the apple orchard. They were stronger than most trees, their trunks embedded thoroughly into the mushy soil and as I ask Kylo Ren if we can go take a closer look, he smiles so euphorically, that it alone, should have made the dead tendrils in the tortured soil to the left, all rise back to the glow it gave me.

He's the shine in the darkness, but it is the bleak his values cause. It's so everlastingly antagonising, how am I ever to look past his glory and only to his hidden violence?

Kylo only lets go of my hand to allow me the capability to brush my fingers along the front portions of the dappled leaves, exactly as they had always been in my memory, green and full of life – And when my fingers stopped upon the generous gloss and hard peeling of a ripe and perfect apple, there was sudden hesitations to pluck it.

Flashes of being whipped and punished for taking a bite out of the ripened fruit, flooded my mind as the stem ripped loudly from the hustling of soft leaves and twigs, but as I held the apple to my face, I smiled slightly to myself in this new form of power, for even the gold of my crown, reflected in the glaze of red.

My teeth crunched into it. The slice sits on my tongue, waiting for the consequence to come, but no farmer's guard comes to get me, ready to lacerate his leather onto the back of my hand – But when Kylo's glove lingers by my other hand, I do slightly flinch before beginning to chew on the apple in my mouth.

The flesh is slightly crunchy but easily gives way. The skin is edible — But flavourless. The apple itself has a distinct flavour making it an _apple flavour_ , and yet, I had only eaten the apples that had gone mushy and gross, the scraps on the table in the barn being the worse of the pickings. It's a little sour and bitter, but mostly sweet, not at all salty, very juicy in general and I nearly moan at the taste as Kylo Ren watches.

"Is it good?" He asks.

I swallow and nod, "Incredibly." I answer, then handing him the rest of the apple, "Try some."

He leans his rosy lips to the crimson apple in my hand, the clashing of their colours being enough to make each form of red jealous – And as he bites down on it, he doesn't worry for guards to punish him for stealing the fruit, he merely just chews.

"It's alright." He shrugs causally, speaking around the sweet taste.

I smiled to his unknowing, to which he only gave me a small-closed smile in return. His leather thumb now brushes the back of my hand and takes the apple out of my grip to only drop it back to the floor – And despite the fact that the old me would have screamed at him for doing such a thing, it was the lack of rumbling in my stomach which kept me silent, and the tiny shiver in my heart.

A little, ignorant, voice in my head whispers to me that Kylo is only closing the distance between us, to keep the alliance between The First Order and the Kingdom strong, but my heart swells so loudly and painfully in my chest that I shush that voice away.

"Why are you always hurting, my Queen?" He asks suddenly, nearly bringing my heartbeat to a peaceful stop.

I narrow my eyes to the rolling apple on the dirt floor and don't flinch my grip away when he interlocks his other hand into my fingers. His warm breath fanning my face in the midst of all this cold.

I shake my head and peer up to the dark man, his eyes aways carrying me into his golden glory. In the middle of a pushing and pulling conflict, he is always standing right in the middle and becomes my beacon of distraction. I gulp, "I am never quite sure." I say, giving him complete honesty.

It is just he and I, in these apple orchards and in the sweet air, I can hear a distant melody of a songbird returning to the orchards – _Is it a sign?_

He furrows his brows, only in soft questioning rather than scolding as he breaks away one hand and slowly rises it to the tender flesh of my cheek, savouring it warm with his coarse leather.

"You must know the reasoning behind what keeps you up most nights." Kylo whispers, his breath smelling as sweet as the apple tasted.

After endless nights of pretending to fall asleep against the warmth of his broad chest, it never occurred to me that he may be pretending too – But why would he? He looked so vulnerable with his eyes closed and his eyelashes brushing the paleness of his cheeks. Could he tell every-single time, when I would tightly curl my hand around the knife beneath my pillow, only to loosen it once more?"

"I–"

He cuts me off, his tone neither defensive or hurt, but rather just curious.

"Could it be because of me?" He asked, his eyes flickering across my face for answers.

I suck a sharp breath inwards, unsure of what to say.

There's so many things that cause me silent and violent pain now. It's an endless life of hassles tricked into the form of destiny and survival. There's death and destruction. Cruelty and rebels. Riches and rags. Gold and grime. It always seems to be two things fighting each-other, and yet, with him – He is the connection between them all. Kylo Ren is the main reason I am here, and yet, I am not the other half which constantly wishes to fight him... _Why not? Nothing makes sense._

In my incredible silence as my mind tries to find the right answer to his questions, without caving to the dirt below and spilling out all the lies I have withheld all along, he decides to answer my own blind and quiet questions, himself.

"Sometimes, I too cannot sleep, or I wake up from the same type of pain that I feel exuding from your heart." He proceeded, searching my eyes. "It was unbearable. It tainted my dreams and I thought I'd go mad from it – But when I wake to see your face, lying next to me..." Kylo gulped, "So serene and beautiful. It soothed me enough to live through it and another day... But now, all I can feel is your own."

Those shameless tears flood to my eyes once more, threatening to spill onto my cheeks and overlap his touch. _Was he trying to tell me something?_ There's a certain vulnerability within him right now and it's nothing compared to seeing him naked or asleep... It's potent. Valuable. It's secretive but bared only for me and the ripe apples to see.

My chin quivers, "There's often a lot of things that cause me pain..." I say, finally answering his previous question in brutal honesty, which even I – All along, didn't wish to admit, "But you, _yourself_ , never seem to hurt me – Despite the fact that with your nature, I thought you would."

There was only a couple of times he violently laid his murderous hands onto me, but ever since the first banquet, he had only tried to tenderly sway me with his intoxicating touch – Though it was his possessive character and the passion for always more, which often pushed me away.

"My nature?" He chuckles softy, "Do you think I am as soulless as some say?"

I bite the inside of my cheek, ignoring his question as if I was a wall as I only backfired it to him,

"Do you believe what they say?" I question, tilting my cheek closer into his hand. It smells of leather. Rich and manly. It smells mostly of him.

He sighs a soft breath of laughter, his eyes dragging along my lips as his own turn upwards into a knowing smirk, "Yes." He nods, raising his eyebrows, "But not all of what is said."

I knit my brows together but give him a brittle laugh, never-less,

"What parts don't you believe?" I chime, interested in what he deems to be worthy of being kept away from people's opinions – What he believes separates his character from the stories told about him across the Universe.

He hums underneath his breath and this close, I can feel it vibrate through his chest.

Kylo Ren thinks about it for a while, but I can tell from the way he is only staring at my face as if he is trying to sketch it out into the back of his mind, that he already knew the answer, all along.

"That I am soulless."

His words shockingly, hurt me.

Was Kylo Ren soulless? Did I think that he was soulless?

I had always thought that nobody is soulless. The thing about a soul, is that the Universe has to bring it and there is nothing you can give back to the Universe, you can only partake in its creation – And in the Universe, one must achieve many good things in order to beat the dark force, but Kylo Ren, was that dark force.... Though, as I glanced back from his lips and to his eyes, I caved in the subconscious of my mind, telling him, her words which I had buried down.

"Well... I don't believe you are entirely... _Empty_ in there." I chime, poking a finger from my free hand to his heart, to which his muscles involuntary flex beneath as if he is constantly on edge of an attack.

"Then we finally both agree on something for once." He said, his voice coming out stronger. Firm. Decided. And at my perplexed expression, he adds, "You and I – We are clearly different."

My mouth goes dry. If only he knew who I really was.

I chuckle meekly and shake my head, glancing away from his eyes, "Not everybody is made for each-other." I state, slowly falling into the unbearable heartache which erupts behind my weak ribcage.

A bird flutters by the top of his head and I watch it sway in the soft breeze to a rotten apple on the ground, it had obviously been dropped by a picker, deemed unworthy of sale, although on the outside flesh it looked ripe.

I was most definitely, a rotten apple – But was Kylo Ren the black bird? If he knew the truth, would he still continue to peck on my defences to try and get to what lays inside, through the flesh and appearance?

He hums, bringing me back out of my head once more and I tear my gaze away from the little bird, "No – Some people are brought together, it doesn't matter if the individuals care for one another or not." He nods, agreeing to my statement at first but it is the second half of his sentence which makes a shiver run down my spine.

My lips twitch at the sides and I slowly pull away from his hand, leaving him to rest it upon my shoulder.

"You don't care for me?"

Kylo chuckles, shaking his head and with only that, clarity is evident in the immense sadness that brews in my stomach. _Did I care for Kylo Ren? The First Order Apprentice?_

"Well, you don't care for me." He decided for himself, shrugging, "– And I suppose at the start, I didn't care for you either. But now? I guess the caring, is just another difference between us."

_He cares about me._

Guilt replaces the sadness.

My stomach lurches, adrenaline pumps and I want to scream to let out all the fear that's been building inside me for so long. I want to yell so loud it becomes not only a cry of fear but a roar of someone who's life has been forged by lies, and only lies.

And yet, Kylo Ren has just given me the biggest ounce of truth that I have been deprived from for so long.

It's as if all this time, I have been trying to balance on a tightrope – But with this small confession, he had completely ripped away the rope, only to catch me on my way down.

My face washed blank with confusion, like my brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information he had just exposed. Every muscle in my body just froze as my heart swells in a tug of war that can't chose between grief or happiness at the news. They come in waves, gruelling and stretching me thin. It is a shard in my guts but somehow the edges are dull, causing more pain as it only tears my insides rather than slices.

"... Things can change." Is all I say, trying to brush it off.

Kylo licks his lips, the muscle beneath his right eye twitching as he does so, "Yes. I have never been the one to hang onto hope, but that is something I often hope for – _Change."_

Change. That's all he wants and so do I. We agree on something else.

Suddenly, a voice is heard from the hill behind us and I quickly turn to the calling, delighted that the Universe decided for this conflicting moment to end as Ruby yells against the wind.

"Your Majesty!" She says, waving her hand over to me as I turn to her from the distance, "Time to go."

But then, all at once, Kylo untangles his other hand and mimics the movement of his other, using them to turn my face back to him as he holds onto each side of my face tenderly, despite the thick leather stopping the feeling of flesh on flesh.

"I had lost all hope that you'd ever be mine. So I accepted this small thing, a pale shadow perhaps, thinking that it might be best for the both of us to stay only physical with a mix of hatred between us..." He confessed quickly, never letting me go with both his hands and eyes.

"Things can change." I said again, fighting against the tears that had formed in my eyes at his words.

He smiled, a sad smirk that made me well up even more, "Things will change."

He could feel it as much as I did. The impossible pain fading from my heart and only beating a quick beat of adrenaline. My cheeks turn crimson beneath his touch and I meekly smile, despite the fact that I know this isn't what was asked of me all along.

I nodded and smiled tenderly, his thumb stroking my cheeks as if he is coaxing all of my conflicts out of the pores, tracing me from brow to chin with moving lightness.

"Things _may_ change."I whisper.

His grin is the most handsome and brilliant thing that I have ever witnessed.

"Your Majesty!"

The grin fades and he groans, flicking his eyes up to the hill to glare at Ruby.

"Your annoying friend is doing what she does best." He muttered, his tone falling back to flat, to which I chuckle at.

I turn out of his hands and glance back to the ginger girl, who now, stood beside the scarlet-haired man, who wore a crisp suit and a grimace to match.

"And your grumpy friend is doing what he does best." I add, referring to General Hux.

Kylo Ren scoffs, finally letting his hands fall down to his sides as we begin to make our way back to the vehicles – Only to then go back to the confining of the palace.

"He's not my friend."

I laugh loudly this time, throwing my head back and nearly letting my heavy crown fall into the soot that I used to be covered in, everyday.

"Yes. Well, neither is she." I add.

In the middle of the apple rows, the orchard from my view is never-ending in its long rows of twining trees which all reach to the sky for further prosperity. The landscape is a work of art in itself, perfect blends of red, green and yellow in patterns but when we finally return back to the barn, where the vehicles are parked next to it, all I am left to stare back to, is the other half of the orchard farm, where it is only wet soil and rippled, dying twigs.

The feeling within my chest, tugs on my heartstrings like the music of a great orchestra. Everything was happening too fast, too soon. My mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the confessions made by the tall and dangerous man by my side.

I glanced to Kylo quickly, only to see if he was truely there and that this wasn't just some unexplainable dream, and that possibly, I was still curled up in his arms back at the Kingdom, only needing his physicality, not his emotional givings.

I shake my head to myself and turn back to the view of the barn, where the girls begin to peer out of the opening and to us – I didn't recognise any of them, and for a short moment, I wondered what had happened to my picking group... Were they let go of the orchards? Or did they all quit, themselves, to go join the protests?

I let my eyes rest for a moment, feeling the ambiance of a place I once knew, all too well, hearing the sounds, taking in the aroma, letting my brain be still. But when everyone is in the vehicle, a girl from the barn calls out to me just before I am about to climb into the seat beside Ruby.

I raise a hand to Ruby, who tells me to make it quick, for we both just assume it to be an admirer of the crown, but when I walk to the young girl, my steady heart drops to my stomach and I almost drop to my knees also.

"Is that really you?!" She asked, walking out of the barn and leaving the rest of the girls to scavenge through the scraps once again, without her.

My lips part and dry immediately. The sorrowful casket that consumed me was illuminated by the light that trailed through the thick clouds and smacked right onto the two of us. I was a wreck. I was completely and utterly, crumbling inside.

"Oh, Gods!" She said, her eyes widening at my own, "It is!"

I lied. I recognised one girl. It was the young girl from my picking group, it was the same girl who I had ran down the hill for when she screamed as the StormTroopers began to throw her and a dozen other girls into the vans.

She was the girl who kneeled beside me in the choosing lines. The girl who was handed a coin as I was only pulled into the arms of the Kingdom, leaving her and the grimy slums to burn whilst I was being bathed in silk and riches.

I shake my head and fake a confused smile, even though the curling of my fists was enough to tell that I was extremely nervous.

"I-I'm sorry?" I stutter to the girl, ready to disagree and pretend we're strangers.

The girl's hair was barely combed back into a messy ponytail, and dirt was smeared across her cheek and forehead. With her clothes marked in dried mud, there wasn't even an inch of fabric that wasn't stained, but her bright eyes shine through it all.

"I thought you were dead." She exclaims, raising her hands in shock, "What did they do to you after pulling you away?"

She looks much skinnier than she did in the back of the vehicle, where her wrists were once chained and the bones of her cheeks looked as if they could cut through the metal even then – And look at me, I am only glowing with last nights meal, and the one before that and so on.

"I-I'm not who you think I am." I protest, attempting to swivel on my heel to flee from her, but she quickly grabs onto my wrist and turns me back to her, much rougher than Kylo Ren had before.

Only then, do I notice that a StormTrooper lingers by the door to the barn, and at the motion of her grasping onto me, he cocks his blaster in the distance, to which I panic and tell him to put his weapon away.

Suddenly, all the fake walls of panic are closing in on me and even the bleak light above has become impossibly bright to my eyes and skin. I'm forming a slight sweat beneath my dress and my hands tremble by my sides in closed fists.

"Oh, clearly..." She eyes the crown on my head, glaring at her own reflection in it but then burning that same gaze into my eyes, "What is happening? You – You're the Queen?"

"I think you have me mixed up with somebody else." I mutter, ripping my wrist out of her grip, to which the tension forms in bright red marks on my skin, almost resembling the welts which would stain my skin in these orchards.

I can feel my muscles straining and the thoughts in my head turn from fear to a dizzy confusion. In the grip of silent terror, wild eyes, pupils dilated, heart racing, brain on fire; Panic is building like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of my stomach.

"No, I don't." She nodded, strong willed in her decision, "You're the blonde boy's missing friend. You're the girl who came to save me the day the StormTroopers came around... And now, you're wearing a crown?"

This is it. My lies are unravelling. The truth is about to be let out, and it's going to be from this nameless girl who had recognised my face from the day we both knelt by each-other, trembling and fearful of what was to come.

The Universe crashed back down. Every star, cosmos, sun and moon, all aim and plummet into my chest and I am left heaving beneath the rubble. Tension grew in my face and limbs, my mind replaying the previous words over and over, as debris of the galaxy, slice my insides. My breathing becoming more rapid, more shallow.

But then, that same voice from before, called out to me once more.

"Your Majesty!" Ruby sang in a bored tone from the vehicle, poking her head out and rolling her eyes.

I didn't dare look away from the slum-girl, who only scowled at the calling.

"Your Majesty?" She spat through her teeth.

My eyes widened and I took a step back, my heels sinking into the mud.

"Ruby!" I called out to the ginger girl as the one who holds the power to tear my need of survival to shreds, begins to take sharp steps closer to me. I regret telling the StormTrooper to put away his weapon now, for it seems even his attention was placed aside after that too.

The mud squelches and flicks onto my dress with every moment.

"You are that girl, aren't you?" She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes to both the crown and the fake birthmark, as all the pieces began to fit together perfectly in her smart head, "You were the girl they pulled away from the kneeling lines!"

"Ruby!"

Taking another step back, she only takes two more, but suddenly, someone pulls me by the shoulder and flings me back, causing me to fall into the mud completely. My hands laying slain in the wet mud behind me to keep my torso upright as I am met with the sight of Ruby standing tall with an outstretched arm between us, to keep the girl away.

My stomach is swirling faster than any axis and the gravity is pulling it into my throat. There's sweat beads falling down the sides of my temples and I feel as if I am going to spill my guts onto my already, ruined dress.

"Guards!" Ruby called, to which all the Troopers fled out of the second vehicle to her voice, cocking their guns in their hands and running over to the slum-girl, following the pointed, dainty finger of the ginger girl, "Get her!"

"Wait!" The girl screamed as the Troopers all bled around her, fear ever-present in her once, cold eyes.

There was fear again, flooding every corner of my system and it starved all the colour in my eyes. My soul was drowning in a carving that I had to force my features into a showing of indifference. In that same mask of defiance, the mud was already drying upon me with those sickly matted clumps that I once always wore.

Though incredibly weak, the girl manages to surge enough adrenaline to constantly slip out of the hands of the StormTroopers and just when Kylo steps out of the vehicle to see the commotion, the girl pushes passed Ruby and falls down in-front of me, nearly knocking our foreheads together.

She falls to the floor limply and her skirt and apron sprawl out around her, sinking into the mud and becoming even more grimy than before.

Her features are tight with fear and her complexion has ran pale.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

She shakes her head and furrows her brows and just before the StormTroopers run back and begin to pick her up by the crook of her skinny elbows, she knocks my arm out and shoves something into my hand, curling my fingers over it before she is pulled away indefinitely, thrashing and screaming as they take her.

When she is finally pulled off of me, is when I open my fist to see what she had shoved into my hand. And when I see the small circle of gold sitting upon my palm, the tears I had so often tried to hold in, all fell down my dirty cheeks endlessly.

For she had put the coin in my hand that I had never gotten that day on the fields of the Kingdom – The day where everyone else but me, was given a token of silence by Ruby Mayse, for what they had witnessed.


	26. Kingdom Of Lies

My throat is coarse and feels as if I have swallowed glass from the way I had screamed at the three servants to get out of my quarters. 

They had spent their time, running the bath, assorting the lush soaps, leveraging me into the warm water – And I had allowed them to do all that they needed, mixing my violent silence with their peaceful and quiet breaths; But as soon as they began to scrub the soaps onto my skin, where the mud and soot lay dry from falling back at the orchards – Is when I finally snapped, though I hadn't thought that the build up to my ferocity was ever growing in the stillness.

I stare at the marble walls as the heated tendrils which rise from the soapy water, linger in the air and attempt to carry my agitation off into wherever my mind had gone in this hopeless and dead stare that my eyes give – But it's no use, no matter how coaxing and halcyon the popping bubbles in the water may be, nothing can get rid of the stiffness in my bones nor the panic in my brain.

Though now stuck in this ravenous stare, every-time, when the air finally sticks to my eyes, drying out all the moisture and smacking a deserted sting into the corners, I see her face when I blink.

She holds a potent expression of sheer terror as the StormTroopers carry her away. Her eyes are wide, her knuckles white and her limbs trembling against their strength to her starving muscles. 

Her features look much like mine, although that was all we now held in similarities. It was only the complexion matched with our hair colour and length, that was it. Other than that, our lives were completely different since that day where we both and some other girls, were torn from the orchards, only for her to return and me, stay where the Troopers had taken us.

My stomach was full, almost to the point of nausea inducing and yet, she still starved. My skin was clean everyday, her's was only bathed in dirt and hard labour – And I can't help but wondering that when she looked towards my crown with such a demeaning glare, did she grow a burning hatred that it was me chosen? Or did she pity me?

Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.

I sigh to myself and break myself out of my daze when my eyes begin to burn once more to the point where, when I do eventually blink, a slight rapture of tears forms when I reopen them – Clearly wishing for a needed slumber to lay this adrenaline and fear to rest. 

Then swallowing harshly, my left fist curls underneath the water around the sliver of circled gold and when it begins to press harshly into my palms, causing a pain to distract the inner terror I posses, I pull it from drowning beneath the water and open my fist to lay my eyes upon it, instead of the polished marble walls.

The piece of gold was incredibly new, fresh and shiny – It is worth a little to the rich but to the poor, this piece means wealth for at least two weeks, three if you spent it wisely. I had never been paid in gold, only silver pennies and it is surprising that the orchard girl hadn't spent it, for I knew that if I was in her place, the moment Ruby would have dropped it into my hand, I would have already spent it in my own head. 

Why had she kept it? Was she waiting for the right thing or the right moment to spend it – Surely not, otherwise she wouldn't have shoved it into my grip, without a peering eye to even see? 

I furrow my brows, stuck in a stare of utter perplexity and repeat the same phrase which ran marathons in my head, out loud, beneath my breath, "Nothing makes sense." 

Bubbles still lay slain across the face of the coin, but when I swipe my thumb across it to remove the strawberry-scented coat of white, I am met with the etching of the late King's profile, his long nose tilted to the left and his eyes as dead as his heart truely is, in the glaze, which without the shine, the gold looked colder than ice – Colder than his own compassion. 

My chest heaves and I hum a sigh of dismay – How long will it take for The First Order to scrap out all of these coins only to replace them with the face of Kylo Ren or perhaps the Supreme Leader? Or will money become obsolete when Jorkhan is brought to ruins? _Just like the orchards had become..._

I suppose a life without money does sound nice – After all, life was solely revolved around wealth and power. All money ever did was make slavery complicated to the benefit of the rich and to control the poor. 

I was a slave. I kneeled to the powerful and the authority held by their wealth only for the return of a sliver of some for my hard work, and yet, it was never enough to keep me alive, _comfortably._

Only a world without a money-nexus can become a world without slavery in all its terrible forms. The monetary system was invented by villains, and the heroes are still counting its real cost as their work rides in the weight of the villains hefty wallets. Indeed, the world could benefit from not revolving around money, but it would be the villains themselves, to be the ones to make that choice. 

I bite on the inside of my cheek, seemingly always resorting to cut the indents of healing flesh with my teeth, every-time my mind was running on overdrive from stress. 

It still seemed fake that I had somehow, become the most wealthy person in Jorkhan. I was fed the finest of meals on golden platters, served with wine and matching golden cutlery. I am dressed in the best fineries. I am payed with the most respect, not dusty pennies for my labour.

But it's funny to me, in this tender moment of a luke-warming bath, for I apparently hold so much money, and yet this is the first form of coinage I have been braced with since caving into this imitation.

And it was a slum girl who had given me it. 

My laughter cuts short and my smile falls incredibly flat. Ruby had said that she would be thrown into the palace dungeons until eventually escorted to a penitentiary which is tucked into the far-off corners of the West – And for what? It's not like Ruby and I can tell everyone about what she had figured out, what she had become agitated over... But Ruby said a Queen doesn't need a reason for her decisions, and that's exactly how this world will burn down into soggy ashes. 

What a waste of a young heart. My guilt is buried for her behind my fear, but for once, I think that my panic has my heart set out for protection, for it is so strong only to mask the real pain and sin.

I can't help but to think that I had killed three individuals now, and although the slum girl wasn't dead, I had been the one to cause the ending of her sad life and the sickening part of me can only hope that she at least gets a benefit of three meals a day, to spare up to the bleak walls and chains that she will surround herself with for the rest of her eternity in prison.

Yes – I had killed three people and though he was meant to be next on my hit-list, it wouldn't be discourteous to not compare me to Kylo Ren, the slayer of worlds. 

I tut to my own thoughts, now always stuck in a constant conversation between my curiosity, conflict and confusion – Though, questions were never answered. I place the penny to the side of the bath, forgetting about the worry in the gold as I move onto my next one. 

A washrag and a small cake of soap lay on the edge of the in-ground tub and forcing my grip to move to that instead, I dunked the rag into the slowly cooling water before mangling the soap with it. 

I couldn't stop the trembling of my hand as I slopped the rag against my skin, just like the servants had tried to, only slower and less willing. Lathering my skin to a foamy whiteness, struggling not to notice how prickled the hair along my arms were, all I could think about now... _Was him._

How could the Universe do this to me? Bare me with such responsibilities and hardships, only to give Kylo Ren such beauty, whilst his interior motives were supposed to be so grave and hideous.

My mind can't cope with the understanding that Kylo Ren is supposed to be a monster and yet, he treats me as if he is my guardian angel – Keeping me locked away from all the harm, only he can see. 

Why does my chest fluster with only the thought of him? I swallowed hard. Those traitorous thoughts caused me as much discomfort in this imitation, for I couldn't seem to play my role in hating him – Even if he had said so himself, that I did not care for him, the way he cared for me.

His words made me feel giddy, almost faint, and only my wobbly legs grew wobblier before him, back in the apple orchard. With Anwar, I used to blame it on the lack of nutrition, but with no starving needs, it seems only my attention had grown hungry for Kylo Ren. There could be no other logical explanation why I was previously on the verge of collapsing, merely by his unexpected confessions.

Scrubbing my legs with harsh strokes, I was overcome with the maddest urge to just sink beneath the water and hope to drown beneath the bubbles, for this conflict within me, revolving around the dangerous, Kylo Ren – Isn't part of the plan. It isn't what is going to save Jorkhan. 

But it is what is going to give me pleasure and perhaps, in the distant future, if Kylo still chooses to keep my company, a fraction of freedom... _Amongst the stars._

I clamp my teeth onto the torn skin of my cheeks once more and when the skin of my legs are scrubbed a bright scarlet, I let out a tired sob and throw the soapy towel, plunking it into the water to send up a showering spray of droplets.

Before I either sink my nails into my scalp or reach to the cloth to begin tearing the stained birthmark on my cheek, off – I instead, stand from the water abruptly leaving the water to fall loudly from my flesh and back to the pool as I side step out of the bath completely. I shiver in the cold breeze and wrap a towel around my body, barely attempting to dry off as I pull on my nightgown, even though it was only evening. 

I leave my hair wet, hardly having enough energy to run my hands through it or place the crown back onto it and it drops water splotches to my back as I tip-toe over my own mess in the bathroom, keeping careful to not slip on any puddles, but it is eventually the forgotten coin, which nearly topples me to the ground. 

I glare to the flicker of gold beneath my bare toes and bend to pluck it from the marble ground, but when I hold it between my fingers, I notice that it isn't the King's face which lays on both sides. One side, his old profile is etched perfectly into the gold, but on the other, a symbol is scratched into the metal. 

I knit my brows and raise it to my eye-line for closer inspection. It was either scratched into the gold by her own fingernails or more understandably, the tip of a knife, from the harsh and jagged strokes on such a small canvass.

I had never seen the crest before, but it looked as if it could resemble the symbol of The First Order. It was sloped at the bottom, though pointed to the top and in the middle of the slopes, pointed arches rise along it. 

I run a fingernail along the edges. What does it represent? Why had the girl from the orchards devalued the gold with the picture?

I shook my head and curled my fingers back around the coin, leaving it to embed into the creases of my palms once more – I suppose this is just something else, that I will never understand. 

Walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, the heat of the day has ebbed to a comforting warmth in its slow departure. The sunshine has lost its brightness and the colours of the suns are still softly pelting down through the balcony. My eyes drift to my pillow and I slip the coin beside the butterknife that I keep hidden beneath the feathers. 

Then rolling my eyes to myself tiredly, I face the balcony, only to fall onto my back into the mattress, exuding a huff of oxygen to shock out of my lungs and the blankets to slightly rise and fall back down with me. 

Now lost in the ceiling, I assume the movement in the corner of my eye, to be Kylo Ren, who had told me that he had further work to do before returning back to our quarters – But when I turn my head upon the rustling of the sheets and give the man a peaceful smile, it only twists into one of shock and I rush to my feet, pressing my back now into the bedpost away from him.

"What – How did you get in here?" I screech, my eyes flickering to the foyer behind him and wondering how he had snuck into Kylo Ren and I's quarters, "Leave!"

The days I had spent, cursing for hours about what he had done and promising each drawing tick of time, to never see him again, seemed to be long forgotten along with the burial of how I used to love the blonde boy standing before me. 

My chest caved again and all the events from today, seemed to be pushed off of my shoulders for the time being, making room for the all mighty blow of seeing him again when that was something I never wanted. Time and space shifted all around me. 

Tiny monosyllabic grunts of words that I stuttered in the baring of his silence, meaningless when it came to affairs of the past which tied us forever together – Though he was the one to cut the string free.

Anwar looked stricken and confused at the fear of my features, his emerald eyes laser focused on my face only to then speak softly, "Your guards let me in."

The guards at the door stood for hours on end, guns locked and loaded in their armoured hands and with the boredom of nobody trying to belt down the door to get to Kylo and I, I assumed that the Troopers were begging for a commotion behind their masks. There was no way they just let the blonde boy in.

I scoff despite my panic, "I doubt it!"

He flinched at my voice, blinking slowly only to then bare those powerful greens back onto me. They weren't the same as I remember, they used to hold pure and innocent mischief and they were the windows to his glorious heart which I always craved a spot in – But ever since this fate, ever since I found out that he played a part in my twisted life of imitation, I could only see the fragile need for revenge of The Order in the colour that swayed around his dilated pupils. 

The boy I once knew, my best-friend – My Anwar, was gone. Dead. Just like our spot in the orchards. Just like the yearning I once carried for him.

Anwar swallows harshly and he shrugs, despite the uncomfortable tension between he and I.

"Ask them yourself. I didn't sneak in." He said defensively, as if he was offended that I didn't believe him.

He looks so fragile standing in the doorway, his shoulders dropped and his skin of gold, only now diminished so pale without the beating suns beaming down onto his golden locks of hair.

My heart threatens to leap through the cage of rib and splatter to the floor beyond my feet. I hold my breath behind pursed lips to steel myself against the gales of fury that are to come with him plucking the courage to even face me again after what he had done.

I curl my fingers into tight fists, shaking my head, "It doesn't even matter, just leave – I didn't wish to see your face ever again."

Anwar's face falls to my words, only to scrunch up again as he takes two steps forwards. 

"How can you say that?" He furrows his brows, eyes searching for an explanation to my reasonable hatred and harshness. His green eyes flick to the wet strands of my hair, searching for what was missing but it didn't matter for the words had already left his rosy lips, "You wear a crown and get three meals a day and suddenly, we can't be friends anymore?"

I huff a tired and distasteful breath of laughter, the words becoming arrows in my mouth, then dipping in the poison amongst my tongue and shooting their way to him from my spot against the bedpost.

"No – We can't be friends because you were the one who put me here!" I snap, twisting my face before him, "Don't act dimwitted, you know that you're a traitor!"

He cocks his head to the side, his golden hair falling limp upon his shoulder and only do I now, notice the stark differences between Kylo and Anwar. On the outside, one was light and the other dark, although their insides are what may throw me. 

"Is it traitorous to fight for freedom?" He asks in a defensive whisper, shocking me to the core with the brutality of his meaning. 

My heart is beating incredibly fast, but as he takes more steps closer, drawing into me, it only beats a tune of misfortune, of hopeless forgiving. Although I have a strong personal bias against treating people like they are disposable garbage once a relationship ends, I can't help but to wish that I had enough strength to curse him away from me.

Were I given an opportunity to stop the trembling of my hands, I would choose to be cruel because it would have been the greater kindness to violently lay my punches onto Anwar for all he had done to me, but it is the glistening of tears above his eyes that make my defences go soggy and weak before him.

"Freedom?! Have you gone mad?" I scold, furrowing my brows and narrowing my eyes, "This life behind these walls is torture to my soul."

How dare he say that what he had done, was all for a future of freedom! There is no way I can ever leave this place with a clean slate. There is no way I can ever escape this cruel imitation without being scarred by all that was done, by and to, me. 

He drew long breaths to quieten the vibrations inside him of finally being so close once again, I could feel the apprehension exuding off of him as he moved in closer until we were barely inches away from one another. He approached me slowly and quietly, careful not to startle me more than was necessary.

Anwar remained stable and kept his hands slightly extended, as if they were there if I ever needed them once again – An anchor for me to land on if only I'd stop wishing for more distance.

"Is it though?" He asks slowly and when his eyes flicker all upon me, they settle to the fading blotches of purple which ran along the flesh of my neck and I could almost feel the twist of his stomach at the sight as he continues, "Torture, maybe so – But even I can see that there must be some pleasure in your pain."

When his eyes return back to mine, I adjust the collar of my nightdress over the marks to hide them although they had already been found.

"That's nothing of your concern." I mumble. 

I can hear him suck a sharp breath inwards and his strong shoulders go stiff as he nods.

"No. It's not." He agrees, then raising a brow to me as if the next thing he says, I should already know, "But you will always be my concern, no matter what."

My heart stops beating for a nano-second, only to pulsate back to life painfully. 

I should have been cruel and definitely laid the first punch only seconds ago because that would have resulted in an act metaphorically similar to pulling a bandage off quickly, but it's too late, he's pulled me into his invisible embrace once more. The pain would have been intense for a short period of time, if I had the strength to kill off the memory of him and I, but like everything else, I cannot find the will to do all that is deemed necessary.

Instead, I tried to be the opposite of cruel and and held onto a small flicker of delusional belief that a friendship could be salvaged, whilst keeping my words cold and features even colder – Just incase this was not to turn out for the best, the cruelness waiting in the back of my heart to return and protect me.

"If that were true, then you wouldn't have told Ruby about me. You wouldn't have sided with Ruby and the Prince without telling me of their plans..." I shook my head and when my chin wobbles, what I say next comes out in a lacing of hurt, "They tried to kill me, Anwar!"

Anwar fans a saddened breath onto me and I shake in the wind, but it is the cool breeze which whips from the balcony and onto us, which cause a million goosebumps to rise upon my body.

His fingers are still slightly twitching, as if he wants to close the distance between us and grab onto my own hands, but I think he knows that if he tried to do that right now, I would most definitely pack my punches.

"I know but that was never my intentions when I agreed to help them take down The Order." He tries but the way his voice quivers proves the honesty, "– And I was foolish for keeping you blind to the truth, for I guess there is always a blindside in a Kingdom of lies... You know that I would never do anything to hurt you."

I stand brittle in his truth – Overcome from the sudden overload of information which had already been sprung onto me today. And when his searching eyes become too much for me to look into, I glance away and try to end this before it only grows into more conflict.

"Why are you here, Anwar?" I whisper.

His tone flattens and his shoulders drop some more as he too, gazes out the opening of the balcony, where the two suns begin to drop into the horizon. 

"I heard about your trip to the orchards and I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

A breath hitches in the bottom of my throat and I tear my face back to him, "You knew that the orchards were dying?" I ask. 

With his strong jaw facing me, his profile is so handsome but nothing compared to the brooding features of Kylo Ren. Anwar doesn't make a move to glance back to me as my own eyes search him for a moment, but he does manage to nod in the glow of the sunsets, his lips moving slowly around his deep words.

"Yes. The First Order began to tear down a quarter of the land for their plans shortly after you were taken, but the harsh weather was the one to kill the rest of the crops." He answers and immediately, I recall the deadly hallows of the orchards, where the life once grew in prosperity, only for me to pluck and help nurture it until the plucking's grew again.

I shake my head at the memory of today, which by now, feels as if it was years ago.

"It's tantalising." I hum beneath the weight of my shoulders, finally giving in, "All I ever wanted was to escape the orchards, not so long ago – But when I saw the ruins of the land, I felt as if I was going to crumple to the destruction and wail for the loss of something which used to keep me tied to it as a slave."

He chuckles a saddened laugh, shaking his head and gazing back to me to showcase the pain in his emerald eyes, which I hadn't placed in the colours before.

"Everything's changing lately." He sighs, his lips quivering slightly still, "I hate change, it seems to be never for the better."

I recall the warmth I felt with him around in our past at the orchards, nibbling on chocolate and laughing about useless things to mask the grumbling of our stomachs – Now look at us. How had we ended up here, so different and so defenceless? 

I try to find the answer in the creases upon his face. In the twitching of his hands or the bobbing of his swallowing, but nothing comes to mind – Only the taunting voice of Kylo Ren returning back to my conscience, as if my soul couldn't let go to what he had said to me today:

_"Yes. I have never been the one to hang onto hope, but that is something I often hope for – Change."_

And all at once, reality crashes down to me with only the harmony that my heart played to his voice and I realise now, what Kylo had meant all along.

The galaxy shines for me again, though my eyes don't have any interest in the stars. Washed with a sense of confused grief for my morals and strength, no different from bereavement, coming in wintry waves. I feel now as if I have failed myself, for I have become a ghost with a haunting need for him.

I shake my head to Anwar, refusing to acknowledge the way my bones yearned for something more now. Longed for Kylo Ren eternally and emotionally – And that's what scares me the most as I admitted it to Anwar and finally myself.

"I don't. Change can sometimes be for the best." I utter, finally all this conflict within me, laying its weapons and defences down, for I have found sudden, brutal, clarity – _I cared for Kylo Ren._

I sound desperate and naive, but even now I can feel the tug between us. That metaphorical rope that pulled me to Kylo, knotting tighter as if it was wishing for me to stay as much as he did.

I continue, "– But this imitation I play, this... _Queen figure,_ which I try to fit, isn't who I am suppose to be and it's someone who I can never change myself to become. Anwar, _I can't do this much longer."_

He didn't understand the undertones, 

"You don't have to." He shook his head, reaching his hands out further but I never took them, for they were not covered in leather nor as big as the ones that were so dangerous, yet I wished would cradle me forever.

"That's the thing." I tremble, ready for my own confession to come, "Even if Kylo Ren dies, I will still have to play this part until Ruby or Prince Dayvis try to kill me again – But Anwar..."

I peer further into his emerald eyes that await my next words patiently, only given with a subtle nod as his lips part in apprehension.

I gulp.

"I don't think I can kill Kylo Ren."

Anwar knits his eyebrows further together and repeats what he had said earlier,

"You don't have to."

I let out a sob, but no tears came to flood my cheeks – I had run dry.

"No – Anwar, you don't understand what I mean!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up into the air and slapping them back down to my thighs when I saw him eye them tentatively. 

"Neither do you understand what I mean." He replied in a soft murmur, to which I was suddenly taken aback from.

"What?" I ask, all realisations and confessions fleeing for now as he suddenly shifted his gaze into one of determination – And all at once, I realise that there was another reason for him being in my quarters right now, which lays beneath his tongue.

"The revolution. The resistance." Anwar hushed, as if someone could be listening although it was just he and I, here. Suddenly, his hands now clasp around my wrists, but in the confusion, I do not rip them away when he pulls them up and holds them between us.

"I had a friend from the stables in the orchards, he was one of the first to start the riots – He's told me something that can change our ending." He explains with a hopeful smile, his eyes searching mine for a delight at the sudden news, but there is no delight, only pure perplexity.

"– There's a plan in the making." He adds.

What? He has had another plan all along and he wasn't only meekly following the harsh directions of Ruby Mayse?

I swallow a lump in my throat down, but the toxicity of the nerves within it, never leave my tastebuds.

"What kind of plan?" I ask slowly, apprehensive of what is to come – But for some reason, I feel as if I already know what is coming. 

It all makes sense. 

The riots. The slums in rage. The First Order. _The Resistance?_

"One that involves getting the hell out of Jorkhan." He states as if it is obvious, his golden hair glowing in the orange due that sneaks between us from outside, "And I'm taking you with me... Just like I always promised."

I bite my lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from my throat; My heart sank. _Amongst the stars, I suppose._

"A-And... How are you going to do that?" My lip quivers and so does my tone, as my eyes drag away from him and distantly to the wall behind Anwar's left shoulder.

"On the wedding day, The First Order are going to be sending a fleet of guards – It may be for protection during the ceremony, but really, it is only the first fleet out of thousands for their eventual overthrowing." Anwar mutters, squeezing his hands around my wrists as if he is trying to wake me out of my daze, where I am stuck between two worlds – _Anwar and Kylo Ren._

"I don't understand where this is heading..." I whisper, not bothering to blink.

Suddenly, a hand lets go of one of my wrists and moves to my chin, where Anwar uses two of his labour fingers to softly reorientate my eyes back onto him as he nods and says what I dread.

"We're going to steal their vehicle and flee Jorkhan."

"You're going to take an aircraft?" I chuckle, though the tears which I thought were all gone, suddenly rise as I find the humour in something so contentious, yet extraordinarily brave.

"Right – And how are you going to drive it, Anwar? Huh?" I huff, trying to brush him away, but he never lets me go with his impossibly, gentle touch.

He nods his head to the foyer, where behind the thick doors to the Kingdom halls, two StormTroopers guard the entryway.

"There's already some Troopers who are in on the plan, surprisingly, they're your guards – They will fly it." He says and then, it makes sense as to how he got in here in the first place, "There's two of them, they were forced into enlistment years ago and they want to escape... They're willing to risk their lives to get us and a group of others, out of Jorkhan and towards a life of freedom."

It sounds all too easy. It sounds like it could work and that I may finally have a chance to leave this _cruel destiny._ I could really forget the life of imitation. I could be the person I want to be, rather than who I am forced to be. I could flee Kylo Ren before my feelings only grow more and more, to the point where he is all I need – But the raging protests and the slums in destruction is what makes me shake my head and ask.

"And what about the rest of the people of Jorkhan?" I chime, now holding onto his hand rather than him holding onto my wrist, "Are we just leaving them to die? To crumble in the impenetrable grip of The First Order – _Of Kylo Ren's?"_

He falls silent for a short moment, but I know he holds the answer deep down, he is just unsure of how I may react to the truth.

"We can't save them." He finally says after a suspended second and my heart cracks at first, only to shatter into a million pieces as he only continues, "Especially since you cannot kill him... _Because of your devotion."_

I repeat the word, even though I understand it as well as he does.

"Devotion?" 

The winds are beginning to pick up their pace, whistling and brushing through the trees around the balcony and it only adds to the tension between us that we both now, don't know if we stand in it together comfortably, or truely, thousands of miles apart.

Suddenly, he lets go of my hands and takes a mere step back as he sighs, "There's something growing inside of you for that monster, I can tell by your apprehension around me... And I know that I have to take you away from him before that lust turns into ignorance and blinds you from the truth, _forever-more."_

I don't bother to reply, for I know it would just add to my Kingdom of taunting lies.

Anwar decides to continue to my silence, taking away the quiet and replacing it with more truths to lay me so vulnerable before him – He's trying to get me to agree with leaving with him and although there is so much apprehension running through my cold veins, I know I must forget the past and move into the future of freedom with him – Leaving Kylo Ren behind.

"You're not safe with him." He shakes his head, licking his lips, "You're not safe in Jorkhan. This is for the best and you know it, _you're not completely ignorant just yet."_

Ignorant for Kylo Ren – No. But I could be and Anwar can easily tell as much as I can. Honesty is what is crumbling me up like a forgotten shrivel of hope, paralysing me with its direction that I know I must follow.

I know I cannot stay here with Kylo Ren, I cannot run off into the stars with him for that is dangerous to the Universe's promises of life and rare freedom – But maybe, I have a slight chance with Anwar?

I have to accept and not hang onto something which cannot grow. It is a greater cruelty to waste my life pining for something which can never be and the longer and deeper my pining grows for the Apprentice, the less likely I will ever be able to be the person I want to be, rather than who I am now, supposed to be.

_Kylo Ren doesn't care for me. He cares for the Princess – The Queen of Jorkhan and all that she can give him by signing over her power to The Order._

"I'm still not ever going to be able to forget that you were the one who put me in such danger, though." I whisper finally, back to Anwar, where he then meets my eyes of pure sadness, the defeat before the victory, I can only pray.

He swallows behind his smile, the relief flooding off of his broad shoulders and his cheeks turning pink, "I know – But I can only hope that you could, one day, forgive me."

His deep voice floods back to me,

_"Yes. I have never been the one to hang onto hope, but that is something I often hope for – Change."_

I whisper timidly to myself as Anwar breaks away to retrieve something from his belt, too keen on his own sudden adrenaline to hear what I say.

_"Things can change..."_

Anwar turns back to me, his teeth pearly white as he beams them to me, the kindness in the smile being as golden as his hair, but I do not know if I can resemble it to his soul just yet, once again, for I am still hurt.

"Here –" He hands me a small dagger, one much like the one that Prince Dayvis had held up to my neck, that night when he _first_ tried to take my life. "Take this – Just incase you change your mind about killing him."

I inspect the blade with parted lips.

The dagger was small and somewhat unassuming with it's plain wooden handle as it lays cold in my nervous hands. It was short at four inches but so sharp even the most gentle of touches to flesh would result in a free bleeding cut. It's handle was upon a closer look, easily mahogany but as I run a finger along the handle, my heart sharpens as if I had plunged it into my chest.

For there was a familiar symbol carved into the wooden handle.

"That symbol..." I utter, scared for the answer to come, "What is it?"

Anwar gives me a curt smile and a nod of trust and in his emerald eyes, I know a safety can be held in our future one day, if change does truely come. 

_"It's the Resistance."_


	27. Fix You

I felt oddly effervescent in my world of grey melancholy as I crept out of the bedroom and to the foyer after hearing a light rattle against the door, tugging on the material of my silk gloves which I had put on for my own entertainment in a fit of boredom. 

Maybe, it was because, strangely, I was expecting the handsome but dangerous man to be standing on the other-side – But although, the bewildering realisation that a part of me was slowly growing attached to Kylo Ren and his dangers, I knew the ease upon my shoulders and gait was because of the knowledge that my sentence was soon served and with Anwar's unforgiven help, I will be granted freedom. 

That day, where he had stood so bravely in the middle of my quarters and promised something that I have always longed, I knew straight away that there was no possible way I could refuse his proposition. With a heavy heart, I listened to every needle-thread of his patchwork plan and even sewed in my own input, here and there. 

The plan was simple, although still, difficult in particular areas. On the morning of the wedding at around noon when the suns are at their peak in the bright blue sky, I will creep out of my dressing room, leaving the servants and maids behind who will carry my veil waiting for my return that will never arrive. 

Then, I will meet Anwar at the East staircase that curls around the edge of the courtyards, which should be presumably empty as most of the Kingdom will already be seated and waiting amongst the set-up on the green grass which I look out to from the balcony of my quarters everyday and where the ceremony will take place. 

Anwar explained that after meeting up, he will have already gained StormTrooper gear from our fellow alliance, to make it easier to sneak into the back hills of the Kingdom, on the other-side and away from the ceremony, where all The First Order aircrafts and equipment will await in the port which the Kingdom keeps their own vehicles in regularly – The other people of Jorkhan's Resistance will already be waiting with a ship and after that, Anwar promises that we will be out of this world forever.

It sounds too good to be true, though we didn't plan around every possible mistake or road block that could come our way on that morning. We just hoped that our destiny will be as smoothly sailed as we said it would. The coin was curled in one of my hands, the Resistance symbol hidden by my silk gloves but never-less, burning a hole into my heart as if it wanted to bleed out the wasted imitation.

I shove the coin into the band of the gloves, just in case Kylo was the person on the other-side of the door, even though, he didn't usually knock for entry. 

Ever since that day with Anwar, I would unknowingly, carefully eye the two StormTroopers outside my quarters, wondering what the saviours behind the masks looked like and how I would recognise them on the morning of the wedding before I place all my trust in their armoured hands to get me out of Jorkhan – But it didn't matter. I will have Anwar with me, even though I wished it was the old him, rather than the golden man which I could no longer fully, forgive. 

But never-less, freedom was so close it was nearly tangible to touch, I could nearly taste a life without bitter lies on the tip of my tongue, I can feel a certainty without constant stress, flood through my veins of long forgotten but always welcomed, hope. 

I smile shortly as my hand reaches for the golden and engraved knob that was dead-bolted into the thick doors, but when my fingertips grazed the coldness of the sphere, my smile fell shortly and my shoulders dropped in the same way. 

For one glimpse of relief, shortly after, a defeated and gravity defining weight would crash my sense of freedom back into a million, little pieces of shattered edges, which would barely still shine in that same glory of hope – _Because he was always in the back of my mind._

I glared to my reflection in the gold and it only doubled in the mirroring of the crown above my head, where my features etched into my complexion with a hurt expression. It didn't take much to determine what my sudden agitation and anxiety now stemmed from. The moment Anwar had left, leaving me to bare with the outstanding news he had thrown to me with revelation, I had been plagued with the help of lonesome silence, by a persistent, un-welcomed intrusion of a specific man and his deep eyes, burned into my hope with a cry to stay in the shadow of his danger. 

Without a reason of purpose, Kylo Ren and his metaphorical claws had torn through my mind and desires at regular intervals like my soul couldn't bare to leave him behind, even though he was the one who was going to bring this world down to ash. 

It's disturbing and conflicting. Sure, if I do what I need to do and what is for the best _– Escape Jorkhan with Anwar –_ I'll be free to go and do anything that I wanted – Except go anywhere where The First Order will find me. I will feel alive and prosperous – Although, the man of The Order had already shown me glimmers of what that may ensure, by his own murderous but inviting hands. 

When another round of knocking pounds on the other-side of the door, I shake my head to my dissatisfied liberty – My connection to Kylo Ren wasn't real. It was something that I was conjuring up in my own mind in this lonesome darkness, _it had to be._

The door creaks open after I twist my distorted reflection and pull.

Fiery red hair and a heated gaze captures my eyes of disinterest. I roll them and cock my hip against the side of the entry-doors to my quarters which she stood at with her hands clasped tightly behind her back as if she wasn't the very person to lay her knuckles upon the wood in the first place.

Ruby's expression was something that I recognised immediately, an expression which would automatically and without a doubt, always send a shockwave of burning hatred through my chest, despite the vacant look in her icy but cruel eyes. 

"What do you want?" I scowl, flicking my eyes quickly to the StormTroopers by each side of the door with their guns cocked tightly in their hands as if they wanted to just forget the plan and shoot Ruby Mayse down now – And even though that twist didn't guarantee a future of freedom, a small part of me wished that could become a reality anyway.

"Come." She cocked her head and spoke with a soft tone, "Lets take a walk."

I felt the blood slither from my face, leaving me as pale as the wintry mist which began to stick to the windows that perch high on the walls behind her ginger locks, which today, weren't worn in the usual and professional plait that ran down her back, but in a loose bun which sat at the nape of her neck.

The coin in the band of my gloves suddenly becomes incredibly cold against my skin, never letting me forget that it is there as she eyes me down. 

I shake my head, "I can't," I sigh, flicking through all the excuses I could before falling on the most obvious one in my tired mind, "Kylo's coming back soon."

Ruby only rolls her eyes and sighs an exasperated breath, "He can wait for you to return." She deadpanned.

I chuckle curtly and raise a single brow to her, folding the arm which had the coin in the band of my gloves, behind the thickness of the door casually, "Have you met Kylo Ren?" I exclaimed sarcastically, then letting my grin fall and shaking my head, "Patience isn't his best virtue."

"Spare me –" She snapped, her tone curling into the toxicity of her cruel and demeaning scolder as she had forgot about the two Troopers for a split second, only to glance back to them and force a meek but uncomfortable grin on her face to replace the slip up, "Your Majesty," She nodded her head curtly, then flicking her gaze harshly into my eyes, "It's important... _Please."_

Ruby Mayse walks with a poised purpose unlike no other. With her stiff shoulders, she had the posture of a ballet dancer, strong, erect, graceful to which even the wind slackened for a moment as if unwilling to blow the hair in her bun out of place without her permission.

It was always difficult to keep up with her – Both her gait and her unpleasant vehemence. 

She was forward, a little intrusive, but it was clear to be seen that those mannerisms were due to a need to always be the one in charge, the authoritarian, and upon silent reflection, I realise the only times I have ever seen her disheveled was when she wasn't in control of the situation. Moments like, when Kylo Ren was about to kill the Prince or when she had realised I wasn't the royal who had been ultimately poisoned.

In those moments, she loses all of her poised purpose and almost panics so much that she loses control of herself as if she is hardwired like a vehicle. When she isn't the one in charge or when she is the one left without valuable information, it's as if she hits the gas in a rush and in that sudden surge of acceleration, it's all on the table to force Ruby out of her primitive override, leaving her to stoop to my height which she often looked down upon, for she would agree with anything to keep the world running the way she would if she had all the power.

I smile weakly to myself as I follow her determined lead and eventually pull my lips between my teeth as it only grows on the idea of what her face will look like when the church bells ring and the orchestra plays, only for me to not walk down the aisle. 

Along the way to wherever we are headed, the coin in my gloves slowly slips down more and more as if it is taunting me for agreeing to follow her and just when it reaches my left wrist, the veins beneath my flesh, pulsate against the cool gold. 

Ruby stops her footing in-front of a grand, arched doorway, where the locks are golden, although, _uncommonly_ , unlocked now. I furrow my brows in perplexity and ask her with a tone of sudden, uncertainty, "The throne room?" I glance away from the arches and to her nonchalant face, "Why are we going in there?"

She shrugs her dainty shoulders up and back down with a sigh, "It wasn't my choice."

The coin slips down just a bit more, all the way into my palm now and I curl my hands into tight fists to hide the slight indentation of the silk folding beneath the weighted gold.

"What?" I narrow my eyes but just when I glance back to the doorknob she reached for, something other than the hatch clicks and I grip her hand away from it, "No. I'm not going in there if he's inside." I snap suddenly, knowing, all too well, who's choice it was to meet inside the hall where I was crowned Queen of his rightful planet. 

"It's only for a couple of minutes..." She flinches her wrist out of my right hand and for a second, I try to forget about the coin in the palm of my left but thank my conscience for not grasping onto her with that hand, "I promise you that nothing bad is going to happen. We have a deal... _Remember?"_

I swallow roughly at the memory of our deal, which is barely a deal for I am not getting anything out of it but a world which will only haunt me with the memory of my murdering intentions until I am most likely, also murdered, but by the man on the other-side of the throne room doors, one day.

A sinking feeling dropped all the way from my heart, to my stomach and then to my feet. I shake my head, "That doesn't mean that you haven't lied on your own behalf." Referring to her promise to keep me safe. I cock my brow up when she does the same, "Lying tends to be something common between us."

Her face falls at the mention. My imitation obviously something that has disrupted the course of her authoritarian life in ways that she wished she could curse at or scolder away, but she does neither of those things to me in this moment, she merely nods once and promises again, "You have my word that I am not lying." 

My lips part but no words are ever spoken to protest as she reaches once again to the golden doorknobs, but that doesn't stop the sudden rise of anxiety as my hands tremble and my eyes water when she twists the gold slowly.

He was behind there and whenever these two are together, nothing ever good results from it. My body feels hot and sweat starts beading in my palms, allowing the coin in my left hand to only slide around some more. I grip it tightly and as Ruby begins to push the throne hall doors open, with every inch that etches open, I get more and more anxious. 

My breath quickens as I hear the creaking of the door, but just when it reaches halfway and she is about to step through, expecting me to follow, my eyes widen at the sight of Prince Dayvis, laying leisurely on the throne with a coy smirk, as if he has invited me with the intention of stealing my crown, too soon. 

I back away and quickly utter an excuse for a departure, "Listen, I've really got to go before Ky–"

Ruby practically growls and at once, she swivels on her heels and grabs onto my left hand, pulling me into the throne room with her. I thrash my arm in her hands but her grip is stronger compared to mine which sits limp beneath the silk of my glove.

"Let go of me!" I cry as I feel her fingers twine around the bones of my hand, pushing them together roughly and just when the doors thud close, I tear my arm away by curling my elbow and knocking my fist back and out of her painful grip with dainty fingers of malice.

Cold air meets the moisture of my sweaty, left, palm and the coin drops and clangs onto the floor where her shiny shoes stand. It lands face up, the Resistance symbol striking her gaze of wide, blue eyes as my glove is curled into the fist of her hand.

What starts as a contortion of my stomach becomes a feeling of being smothered by an invisible hand. My breathing becomes erratic, deep, then shallow, but it feels as if neither enough air is getting in or out as my heart begins to pound against my chest, pushing all my panic into a hefty force. 

In one of those moments, her malice falls as limp as my stolen glove and when she bends down to retrieve the coin, I try to pinch it out of her fingers but she flinches it away from me, her face searching mine for an answer to her mind's endless, miserable questions.

"What are you two fighting about now?" The Prince groans as he kicks a leg over the side of the throne, before getting up from the plush cushioning and making his way over. 

Ruby and I are stuck in a stare, the tension both thick and thin between us. 

"How do you have this?" She spoke into the silence with shock as the only other sound to be heard was the dropping of my blood and Prince Dayvis' shoes clicking on the floor to Ruby's side.

Fear turns cold in my system as if it is the vexing of my burning soul. Like the rushing of frozen blood to my reddening cheeks, my veins feel as if they could crack at any moment if I don't burn the ice into liquid with raging acts of violence to save myself.

"The girl at the orchards gave it to me." I forced out as I stabbed my fingernails into my bare palm, ready to strike the pointed jaw of her's, if needed.

"That Resistance scum..." She seethed, turning her gaze back to the coin in her hands just as Prince Dayvis leaned over her shoulder to take a peek at what was scratched over the face of his fallen Father. 

His eyes narrow as he inspects it, "Ah." They then raised as he chuckled lightly, flicking his mischievous eyes to me, "Is the Queen playing with the enemy? _How dishonourable."_

I scowl to him just as the fury begins to bleed out of the cuts in my palm, "I am not. I don't even know what that symbol means." I lie, one more out of a thousand, couldn't possibly hurt. 

"It's the emblem for the new Resistance Movement." Ruby breathes, still holding the coin away from me with offence running through all her veins and to the cold fingers which could send an icy-coat to overlap the gold. 

Despite being told what the Resistance is briefly from Anwar, I still couldn't quite hang onto the meaning of her words, to which she notices and rolls her eyes before elaborating, 

"They're a private and paramilitary force which opposes The First Order."

The gold of the coin glimmers to my eyes as she continues to speak, trying to enlighten me with the meanings but in her laced tone of malevolence and obvious hatred baring to The Resistance she spoke of, I couldn't help but see an undertone which still didn't make sense.

If the rebels of Jorkhan are standing bravely and The Resistance are fighting back against the evil First Order, despite the overwhelming odds – Shouldn't Ruby and Prince Dayvis entrust the movement, for they were surely on the same war-grounds, challenging the same villain in hopes to restore democracy to the galaxy and Jorkhan?

Taking a step slightly back, I cower into my haunting mind and speak out my questioning, already preparing myself for the attack to come when Ruby and the Prince both, at the same time, narrow their eyes and tilt their heads,

"Then, why do you call them scum, if they are trying to fight against The Order, just as we are?" I ask slowly, my words unwilling to take flight, only when they do, Prince Dayvis' spiteful tone, makes them seem to fall limp in the tension and flutter down to my feet the same way an incredibly, weak feather in the breeze would.

Then, all at once, his face morphed into a cruel stare which glared daggers into my soul, so sharp that it brought a prick of fear to my heart, but just as his teeth grit together and he spits his words, I realise there was something sharper in his own system, I could see it in his eyes... _He was just as scared as anyone else._

"Because The Resistance are just as bad as The Order. If the people of Jorkhan start looking to them as their saviours, the next target they will revolt against is the Kingdom." He says, uncurling from behind Ruby and closing the distance between him and I. 

I flinch when he raises a cold hand to my chin and uses it to shake my head lightly in his grip, as if he is trying to shift some sense into me.

Despite the hidden fear, he licks his bottom lip softly and smiles, "Meaning, you and I, in particular. They will parade our heads on sticks most likely next to the rotting ones of Kylo Ren and that grumpy General."

A light sweat glistens amongst my skin whilst there is a soft buzzing in my brain, and together they remind me of the conflicting Universe I now live between. My heart feels as if it is always stuck between erupting into flaming fires or shifting into an endless weeping of cold grace. 

All at once, it is as if all that freedom as crashed down around me, ricocheting the debris all over my skin, piercing through my flesh and allowing my hopeful blood to seep out of the reopening of my scarred wounds. 

The shoreline of the freedom is still there in the distance, but it has become only a figment, as if it has evaporated in the heat of Prince Dayvis' malice. In the midst of the revolution, my mouth goes dry and so does the blood that becomes trapped behind my left nails, which are still curled into my palm – But when I notice Ruby only smirk behind him, delighted in my sudden drain, I force my brain be as empty as that horizon of freedom, rather than to suffer the loss of hope and show them the tide of emotions it brings to me.

I try to swallow my stand-paper mouth, but my tongue merely sticks as I ask, "Then, who really is good in this Universe?" 

I think to all the people I have ever known and it shocks me to think that though some are good, there is still always a bad side in their shadows which follow. Anwar and his traitorous intentions which he disguised as an ignorant attempt at saving me. Prince Dayvis and his keen ability to murder for power. Ruby and her tenacious secrets and authority.

Kylo Ren and his dark-side, but shockingly, he never shows me it – But that doesn't mean it isn't there, following and clinging onto all of his glory.

"Nobody." Ruby shakes her head, "Everyone's only fighting for themselves." 

A shiver runs down my spine with the coldness of her gaze.

We all have our own battles to fight. Whether it is for survival, recognition or even love, we are fighting all the time and it's tearing me apart with every-day that I lay my punches into destiny, trying to shape it into what I want it to be. 

Consciously or not, my mind and the soul inside my chest is in a constant battle, a constant fight with the world and the ones who threaten to destroy it. 

But it's a never-ending struggle, for I can't help but feel as if I am being stretched thin between each destiny and danger. It's as if all at the same time, Ruby and the Prince, Anwar, and then Kylo Ren, are all pulling me in different directions, promising me a different future – And as my veins are tearing to shreds in this incredible struggle to choose a path which is right, I can't help but wish that I was a castaway, who had no responsibility, no designed fates but the one I create myself.

But that is no longer possible – So I only stretch and hope that when I drag my way to freedom, there is no marks of snapping to lace me. 

I shake my head and hold out my hand for the coin, "Whatever, just give it back."

Ruby meets my eyes once again, and I stared silently with determination to not to look away first as my fingers reach out for the coin she held as if she had stolen it from a baby. 

I was certain that there was a hurricane brewing behind clarity of her blue orbs and when she threw her head back at my expression and laughed, the moment her eyes rest back on me afterwards, they have shifted into a typhoon of nirvana, only it was a paradise for atrocity to swim. 

"Why?" She countered, stepping forward only when Prince Dayvis took a step back. She cocked a ginger brow up and held the coin between her two fingers, waving it in the air to taunt me, "So you can use it to join forces with The Resistance?" She asked, then shaking her head, "No – I am keeping this and you are keeping to your promise."

Her words seem to bounce off the walls of the throne hall and the heavy weight of them all seem to take a seat upon the throne at the end of the long aisle that we fight in the middle of, only to watch the entertaining way my face fell.

My promise – The promise to kill Kylo Ren. A promise I cannot keep, and won't have to if _– When –_ I flee with Anwar.

Taken aback, her words seem to have swept me off my feet and left me swirling in the chaos of my own traumatic distress. I felt the confused shift between fear and anxiety inside me, which I used to think were the same thing but I have grown to tell all of their differences, as my face flushed red with both sorrow and rage and just when I opened my mouth to retort, Prince Dayvis spoke once more.

"How's that going, by the way?" He chimed in a sarcastic tone, rolling his eyes shortly after, "Obviously not well – Last time I checked, Kylo Ren was still taking up all the oxygen with his overwhelming sense of misery."

Suddenly, my stomach churns when Kylo Ren flashes in my mind, his _soulful_ eyes and his _soulless_ intentions welding into my hidden desires. I want nothing more than for me to keep my distance from Kylo, but here I am remembering the way my heart nearly bled into his own from the proximity of our chests only last night, when he curled behind me and pulled me close.

The anxiety in me, only managed to grow in the confining of my chest. It was more than just a slight burning that ran underneath my skin. No, it was as though someone had soaked my nerves down completely and then plugged it into a cloud filled with electricity, to which I awaited the first blow of violent bolts, any minute now, as a result for my negligence – How had I allowed this to happen? At what point exactly, did I begin to look past all of the dangers around him and only to the comfort he sometimes gave?

"I–" 

Ruby cuts me off, narrowing her eyes once more.

"You aren't backing out are you?" 

Prince Dayvis chuckles and when Ruby is too busy glaring at me, he snatches the gold coin out of her hand and flicks it up as if he was betting on my response. It falls back into his gloved palms with a light tap, the gold trapped in his grip as he curls his fingers around it. 

"She just might be, you know what they say about the weak slum-people." He shrugs nonchalantly to the woman with scarlet hair and cheeks.

I take a step forwards suddenly, "I am not weak!" I snap, my chin quivering as I try to hold my ground, while the pair of them always seem to tear me back down.

Prince Dayvis only scoffs with a smirk, which I'd like to punch off of his wicked face.

"Tell that to your Resistance coin," He mutters as if he is suddenly bored of the conversation, flicking it back to me which I scrambled to catch and shove into the cupping of my breasts undergarment.

The Prince winces at the sight but continues, "Those people are as weak as anything, they don't have the resources to save one person, let alone a whole Universe. It won't be long until they're as dead as all of us."

As dead as all of us. No – No, I am not going to die. I'm going to flee with Anwar, but where does that leave them? Six-feet underground, I suppose... Only, there will be no room to bury them once The First Order have embedded their weapon into Jorkhan's soil.

I swallow the lump in my throat down, only it rises back up with a vengeance as Ruby replies before I can, "We're not going to die –" She smacks the shoulder of the Prince, then turning her eyes back to me, "Aren't we, _my Queen?"_

_I can barely keep myself alive, let alone a whole planet._

There's an inner storm wrecking my soul from within and calming it was the key to fixing this colossal mess. Change is always a leap of faith and it takes an iron will combined with a heart of pure bravery to do it – But it seems, I have never been blessed with either... I have always just lived day to day, never knowing if I would survive, but still fighting with every-chance I got to wake up to the sunrise once again – And I don't know how many sunrises I have left.

The corners of my lips tug down as if a string was sewn into the skin, only to then knot around an anchor which drops as fast as my stomach does. There's a lace of strife to my conflict and although, with every fibre of my weak body, I can't help but feel guilty for I know that I will choose to save myself over saving Jorkhan, for there was no possible way I could be the saviour to them all, so I must just _try_ and save myself.

Anwar's voice rings in the back of my head, just as I respond, _"We can't save them. Especially since you cannot kill him... Because of your devotion."_

"N-No." I lie, "I won't let that happen."

If only I wasn't so foolish for growing an attachment to the villain. 

I suppose, I am just as cruel as everyone else who has played a part in the eventual downfall of Jorkhan.

"Good, because that man must die no further than the day of the wedding." Ruby hums, just as my eyes drift across her shoulder, the weight of the stolen and dying world, falling back onto my shoulders, "Because, once those vowels are spoken, he and The First Order will own Jorkhan." 

_The tired tears had long dried upon my cheeks –_ Barely shimmering in the dusk of the sky which crept from the balcony behind the throne I sat upon. I don't know how much time has passed since Ruby and the Prince left, I don't recall how many tears I had let fall as the silence left a ghostly space for my trepidation to sink into me and elute the most painful rage of conflict that I have ever felt. 

I should have just stomped on my devotion for Kylo Ren, the moment it had spurted out of my damaged soil or tweaked the petals until nothing was left but a stem of thorns to protect me from this damaging twist of fate. 

It was all because of him. It was always his fault, every wicked part of my life resulted from him being alive and although my life will rightfully be grand without him in it, I can't bare to live in a Universe where I was the one who killed him, despite all the wrath he has, and will continue to ravage with his cruelty _– But he was never cruel to me._

He promised all the same things Anwar did, to flee to the stars – Only, my devotion couldn't dwindle my heart's knowing that I could never live the life I need to, with Kylo Ren, the Jedi Killer, the destructor of light.

"You weren't in our quarters." He spoke first when he had finally looked for me after all this time spent wasted, flaring my hurt gaze to the hall, where the people of Jorkhan celebrated my crowning not so long ago. 

He swallowed roughly when he noticed the melancholy in my eyes as he made his way up the aisle, "I had assumed you fled the Kingdom." He chuckled but I didn't return it, for it only reminded me of the main reason I had been brought here in the first place. 

I shake my head, forcing myself out of my horrific daze and I smiled up at him when he stood, peering down at me sitting upon the throne, "Oh, I–" I fall into the warmth of his eyes, "I got distracted. I am sorry."

When he reaches a gloved hand down and holds onto my chin, I don't shiver the same way I did when Prince Dayvis had done it not long ago, but I rather fall closer into his leather touch and I spite myself with anguish at my own infatuation.

"You are still caught up in the trappings of your own mind." He hummed.

I roll my lips together, uncertain of what to say when my eyes flutter shut with the weight of exhaustion pulling them down. I taste his bitter gloves but it is only another reminder that I won't be so close to him soon. 

"I–" I start, but ultimately, I have nothing to say.

He crouches down, still keeping his hands upon my chin as he leans across the arm of the golden throne to tilt into my eye-line, finally noticing the faded streams which stung the flesh of my cheeks. 

Ever since we had met, Kylo and I have kept more secrets from each-other than truths, but neither of us cared much – For the two of us just seemed to fret the most on the idea of what had pulled us together in the midst of such unconditioned grounds.

"If you let me take a look..." He tried again, like he had so many times with his deep and dark eyes, which if the soul behind them truely desired, he could use them to peek into my mind and scowl across all that I have, truely, done wrong, "I might just be able to fix it. _Fix you."_

The silence he causes after the pin-drop of his sentence, pricks holes into my thin skin. My Universe swirled around me and so did my uneasy stomach. My heart would've shattered into a million pieces just by that one look that he gave me now, if it hadn't already been broken a million times before.

There's a warmth in his eyes, unlike the heat that the suns can bring – But it seemed that ever since him and The Order have arrived, the suns have made no effort to return to Jorkhan as they constantly hid behind a sheet of thick and angry clouds. 

I can't help but think that he has the same effect on me too, in my soul, it rains when he's gone and yet, it rains when he is here too – But in this strangled second, I am the one who cries all the burdens of a stormy weathered-heart.

"No, I–" The tears burst forth as if I hadn't spent all of his time searching, crying upon the throne of the Kingdom. The throne fought for and by the blood of the King's ancestors, only to have scum like me sit on its expensive gold and violet plush. 

He wipes away all my brittle tears with the thickness of his glove, not even sparing a second glance to my hand that reaches up to press his further into my cheek, the hand that is naked compared to my other which is covered in silk.

"My Queen..." Kylo Ren mumbled, "Show me yourself. Speak to me."

No matter how warmly he may ask, I can never show him my true self, for it is not who he expected, nor wants. I can't help but wonder what he would do if he ever found out, would he kill me? Would he be the one to ruin my streak of survival which I have fought so hard to keep, all my life? 

Indeed, strength doesn't command my higher logic and primitive drive to survival, but it still lingers in the magnetic pull between us, somehow still alive and frail as it is being stretched so thin, it may eventually break, just as I will... But I can only pray that he will never find out the truth and once I have escaped Jorkhan, he will never search for me like he had just scathed the Kingdom Halls moments ago.

I swallow roughly and when I eventually speak with a timid tone, the lacing of a salty tear, falls between my dry lips, "Why do you treat me so differently to how you treat everyone else in the Universe?" 

His mouth was slightly turned down and his eyebrows were curved downwards too. He's strong, he doesn't usually show emotion over things like this, but the thought was there. His face showed feelings of sorrow, I could see it all bleed into the honey brown coat.

"I-I am not so sure."

Though, I will never truely find answers, I am contempt – For there is nothing to cling onto in his words, nothing that can only nurture my growing devotion for him and maybe, that is for the best in the long run, when I need to crush the remains of it until I forget about him entirely. 

But that doesn't mean that I don't lean in halfway, when his lips make their way to my own. 

He brings a warm chill to me, so confusing in the hot goosebumps that lace my skin when my nostrils fill with his addictive musk. In a moment, the tension is devoid of even the rain's comfort, but the tingles beneath his crimson lips work like a salve to my frayed nerves.

Injecting a level of passion that put mine in the shade, he kissed me with a purpose which I couldn't place, but I knew that the sole reason wasn't just attraction, but something much more tangible. Oblivious to the increasing torrential downpour to come in the future now, I tried my utmost to match his hunger as I only twined my fingers into his hair and pushed him closer.

The mercury in my inner thermometer was rising at a rate of knots, scorching my blood a pleasant warm once again as he only kept his big hand on my scarlet and salty cheek, his other roaming wherever it could reach, with the awkward arm of the throne inbetween us.

My mouth opened to play and his tongue only accepted the entry. When his roaming hand went up my waist and to my breasts, I moaned in his mouth as he squeezed one firmly through the thick fabric of my dress.

I whimpered when he pulled away, baring my tender lips cold and he chuckles before returning his lips to the delicate skin of my neck. He began kissing slowly and biting gently as if he savouring my smell and every inch of my flavour as much as I was. He made his way around the throne as he did so, still kneeling before me but leaning across to keep his teeth nipping at the broken flesh.

When I feel his fingers begin to push the fabric of my dress up, I grip onto the arms of the throne for support as my breathing becomes erratic. I don't have a slight inkling as to how the tension had shifted into one much more laced in impatient passion, forming this throne room into an unbreakable heaven, but I don't even consider telling him to stop when the skirt of my dress is bunched up to my waist, my legs now on show and opening before him when he finally pulls away from my neck.

It doesn't take long for him to curl his fingers beneath the band of my undergarments and pull them down. 

Watching his shoulders rise and fall as his heartbeat became more enthusiastic, Kylo positioned his shoulders under my thighs and gazed at the exposed delicacy of mine, kissing the inside of my right thigh, then suckling the inside of the left. 

Slowly, two long and leathered fingers entered me with a purposeful and graceful force, as if he was scared of breaking me as his gloves made it slightly more difficult. My breathing became quick and my heart was pulsating through every crevasse of my body, my most intimate place clenching around him tightly when he added another finger.

I could still taste the salty tears upon my face but the flavour of elation running dry on my tongue was overbearing and powerful as I threw my head back and moaned. 

To think that not so long ago, I was squabbling with Ruby and the Prince, is quite funny and I suppose the smile on my face looks intoxicated as I roll my eyes to the painted and extravagant ceiling.

My legs are trembling and so are my hands, which are uncertain where to place themselves, so I merely dig my nails into the plush cushioning above the arms of the throne but the hand with the silk glove still worn, slightly slips. 

When suddenly, he slips his fingers out of me, I have no time to even spare him a glance before shockingly, his lips kiss where his fingers once played. It's a new and electrifying feeling that I have never even considered before, but this is something that though uncertain, I cannot wish for it to ever end. 

With a long, flat tongue he tasted me and my ankles bucked and overlapped each-other behind his back. With hooded eyes and crimson cheeks, I gazed to the arched doors down the aisle as he went to work, kissing me undone. 

It's a sight for the King, if hauntings are real and I hope that he is rolling in his grave to see how the slum-girl is treating his master throne. 

Gratifying was my flavour, so he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to his face, burying his mouth into my folds and his prominent nose prodded at the bundle of nerves above. 

At my breathy cries, his pace quickened, throwing me over the edge of passion and to something much more extreme with his pleasuring mouth. When his breathing became quick against my core, I cried out in the hall, the moan echoing and bouncing its way down the empty and heavenly space.

He grinned against me and I could tell he loved making me moan. It was such deep satisfaction to feel the power he had over me, to feel how hard my blood must be pumping when his hand fell off my thigh and gripped around my left wrist, trapping the veins beneath the flesh and muscle. My mind was blank as he moved with my desires.

Suddenly, the rhapsody was building within me and tightening in my abdomen warmly, and when I climax from his tongue that still plays even as I do so, my eyes clench closed and I practically scream.

Satisfied with his job, he wipes his mouth as if he had just finished a wondrous feast. Returning out of my legs and pulling the draping of my dress back down, only then to find the entertainment out of my scarlet face.

His lips are brightly pink, just the way they were every-time I kissed him, "You –" He swallowed roughly, uncertain if his words will ever have the courage to take flight, "– You are the most breathtaking thing in all of Jorkhan."

I chuckle to ignore the way my heart flutters as if all the butterflies of the orchards have decided that their new home would be the cage of my chest. I shake my head meekly to him, but he won't take no as an answer as he only uses my anxious silence to continue,

"This planet, it's so wretched with sombre and forged luxuriance. I hate it." He furrows his thick brows whilst his hands fall upon my clothed thighs once more, "– But you? You're the most real heart in this bleak world."

When he looked at me it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from my lungs, only using it as fuel to make the stars behind us brighter. 

"I don't think you understand what you are truely saying." I whisper, the string connected to my lips, tugging back down as a pensive sadness begins to settle among the elation that my heart beats to. 

There goes the dwindling of my devotion that I truely needed, for his words are only letting it blossom.

"Yes, I do." He nodded, "You are the lightest and realest part of this faux Kingdom and though your emotions become overbearing sometimes, they still shine brighter than any useless piece of gold."

My breathing is still ragged and pale from his touch so my voice comes out strangled, whilst the tears begin to form, only to be captured by his hands once again, "Kylo..."

"This world – It's baring you bland in an imitated providence, but I can give you more than Jorkhan can ever." He whispers with a certain tone as he held my face in his hands and when he leans in to kiss me again, adoration and elation rushed into my veins and soon, the entire system.

Kylo pulls away once again and this time, there's a certain smile on his face, one that I have never quite seen before.

"I don't know why I spare my darkness for your light." He shakes his head but his smile only grows in the midst of my dying freedom, for now it will be truely hard to leave him behind when I flee with the Resistance... 

But when he says his next words, the cage that captures all of my butterflies is released and my anchor becomes so heavy, it snaps from the thread which is attached to my lips – For I can't help but understand the undertone of his words...

"But I do know that I will take you away from this world and together, we can live in prosperity as we watch the imitation of providence, _die."_

_He really is going to kill all of Jorkhan._


	28. Slipped Note

It was a whispering breath of warmth upon my cold cheeks of touched morning dew, that woke me from my peaceful slumber – Where I was delighted to stay in the dark void of nothingness, rather than the panicked and stressful life that I have been forced to live forever, filled with choices and paths that I must choose between, in order to create my own fate in return for living a life so summoned.

His milky brown eyes of kindness were the first thing I saw as I fluttered my own open and like always, my first thought of the morning – _Of a demanding, new day_ – Was about him. 

_How could someone so beautiful and warm to me, be so cruel to my home?_

I allow Kylo Ren's inviting hands to roam my body from beneath the wrappings of twisted bedsheets, despite the fact that my mind is twined in a much rougher wrangling, my thoughts and decisions becoming nothing but a big mess of consequential factors which will change my future forever. 

The wedding is tomorrow and it is said that the sun will finally return to bask upon the land, ridding the green grass from the layer of soot and slight ice of last night's cold rain, and replacing it with the finest of prosperities for the united souls of the Universe. 

There's no point for me to praise the Universe for the sun, like everyone had been doing for the past days – There won't be much land for the rays to hit soon, and I am not so certain as to which sun I will bathe beneath instead. 

Kylo Ren whispered something soothing to me, but it didn't calm the static of my brain, whilst he entangled his fingers into mine and brushed his thumbs over the small, silver scars that were flickered across my hands, some from years of childhood innocence and some others laced with tragedy of labour in the orchards – But he never asked what the mere, couplings of silver were from, even if he had squinted his brown eyes to finally notice them.

I let the hazy blur escape the rapture of my gaze and lay my eyes onto him as our heads still sink into the pillows – He's a sight unlike no other in Jorkhan and my stomach does a flip when he smiles in that simple way he only does to me – Though, my guts drop when I hear the hush of my conscience, tell me to leave with him and let Anwar, Ruby, The Prince and all of Jorkhan, perish – For they were never kind to me, _at least,_ _not like he is._

_He's going to kill all of Jorkhan!_ – How dare my heartstrings coil around Kylo Ren, and the beat replace itself with an almighty cry to stay by his side forevermore?

_No – No,_ I have to leave with Anwar. I have to leave with The Resistance and forget Kylo Ren... No matter how much of an indentation will be torn from my heart and soul, for the rest of his forgotten eternity. 

I grin meekly back to him, grateful that he hasn't pried through our mutual agreement and bond, to read the inner tangling of my thoughts – Then, I hum to myself and roll over, only for him to pull my spine closer into his toned chest. I suppose this would be a nice feeling to wake up to, every morning, but it is something that I will never get again – Even if in the slightest chance of in the future, I forgive Anwar and we rekindle passed whatever we once had – So I might as well enjoy this whilst it lasts.

He speaks low about the slight chill to the air and how grand tomorrow's weather will be as we slip our rings onto each-other's fingers, but little does he know that I will be long gone before then – _Truely, among the stars._

Through the breezing lace curtains that hang from the stone ceiling of the bedroom which meets the opening of the grand balcony, the wintry morning is ever-lasting, as if the icy touch is bellowing through the lace to farewell me before my secret departure when the sun is to make its peak in the blue sky of tomorrow. 

"It's time to get up." Kylo Ren whispers into my ear, causing a warmth to send the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to his attention.

I bite my bottom lip and chew it slightly as his grip only tightened around my abdomen, "No, it's not." I murmur into the sheets as I only sink further into the _rich_ material – What class would I be considered when I run off with The Resistance? Will I be a poor slum-girl to them? Or does money not run their values like it takes over Jorkhan?

He chuckles low and I feel the vibration from his chest in my own spine, ricocheting up my bones and fluttering upon my weak and tormented heart – _What was he doing to me with his treacherous, good-looks and the way he speaks so lovingly with his touch?_

I close my eyes.

"I think the birds chirping and the sun which sits so far behind the clouds, says otherwise." He retorts and I can picture that damn smirk upon his face even now, as he buries it into my hair. 

"It's too cold to get out of bed today." I sigh, finally opening my eyes again and turning back around, still in the tender grip of his. His own eyes glow dimly as I looked to him tiredly, and it doesn't help my case with the rise of blood to my cheeks as I take in the sight of him once more. 

Kylo smiled in a touching way, before dipping his head to kiss me softly on the flesh of my temple, sending my body into an incredible soaring of heat in the midst of all this chill, "Then – I guess we will just forget about what I planned for today and simply waste our whole day in the twisting of sheets." He hums, his voice filled with a certain inkling of sarcasm, which awaits me to question his motives, whilst he begins to rub his face with his hand. 

I roll my tired eyes but the smile that plays on my lips is traitorous to my life of forgery, "And what was planned on your agenda for today, Kylo Ren?"

Kylo smirked before removing his large hand from his face, to reveal his pink lips and the words fuelled with a certain playfulness to fall from his tongue, "Oh you know – I was just going to take you to the stables for the day so you can finally ride your horse, now that the weather is getting better."

His words cause my blood to rise and fizz as if he had injected electricity into my veins which wakes up my brain, though I thought myself already awake. My smile grows of its own accord and I can either let him see what he ignited or hide it, but it doesn't matter if I show him how I truely feel when he powers such a ferocity of warm feelings that I brew for him – I won't have to hide them anymore, for he simply won't be here to watch the blush rise in the tensing of my cheeks, soon. 

My eyes shine and I shake my head at his playfulness – To which he gently ran his long fingers now through my hair and scratched my scalp as if he was attempting to coax my thoughts from my brain instead of breaking the promise he gave to me, all those weeks ago.

Kylo's other hand, snaked from my waist and then to my face to cup my chin, whilst his other still glides through the strands of my hair. As he leans in, I don't hold back from closing the small gap between my trembling lips and his, but before his warm mouth meets mine, I speak against the rose of his lips with a small smirk, 

_"That does sound like a grand way to spend our day."_

The horse had already been prepared and stood riderless in the middle of the gated paddock, where the grass was green and slightly glazed in the dew of the morning. At first, the mare was startled at the sudden presence of Kylo and I, swashing our boots through the grass and over to its direction, but I made sure to slow my movement to not cause it any more fear. 

I had never worn pants before, but they had to be the most comfortable and practical thing that I have ever been in – They were considered in Jorkhan, a man's clothing and often looked down upon when the tight fabric was wrapped around the fleshy thighs of a woman, _or the bones of a person in the slums._

At first, Ruby snapped when I walked by her in the halls, but it was Kylo Ren who stepped in and protested that nobody would even glance at me, not when he was there with a dangerous lightsaber attached to his belt, ready to strike anyone with nerve.

I had to admit to Kylo that I had never been skilled when it came to riding horses but I left out the fact that I was very good when it came to handling them, after years of practice by Anwar's side in the orchards. 

My head barely rose above the mare's muzzle as I held out my gloved hand for it to sniff and spurt moisture onto the brown leather across my palms. 

My lips rise into a small, pleased smile when the animal calms to my touch – Resembling the way I seem to unwind whenever the wicked man behind me, runs his leather gloves through my hair or kisses me softly with those playful lips. 

I reached to grab the loose reins of leather which were already attached to the horse, only wondering briefly if it was Anwar who had prepared the mare for riding. 

Clicking my tongue to the roof of my mouth to entice the horse to follow the noise and my lead, I gently turned the horse around, its hooves swishing softly through the inch of wet grass as I swivelled around to face the man who had destroyed hundreds of planets and will only add Jorkhan to his endless list. 

"You never cease to amaze me." He says low as his brown eyes shine with a golden hue, the same type of fluorescent that I am assured the sun will resemble tomorrow morning, when I leave him and Jorkhan behind. 

Though I had heard his deep tone, loud and clear, I couldn't help the nervous stutter that arouse from my chest as the blush made its way to my skin also, 

"P-Pardon?"

His smile was wide with amusement and his eyes were still bright, the white around the brown irises, affiliating with the way the light meets the dark. 

It was interesting, the way Kylo Ren was supposed to be such a cruel monster, and yet, if I continue to not acknowledge our first few, loathing encounters, he has shown me nothing but... _Light._

"You're so well natured with the horses," He answers with a chuckle, "It's as if you were born in a stable, yourself."

He was only joking – But a stable isn't far off the conditions that I was truely born in. 

Though I was always wary of Kylo Ren's true intentions, he had always hinted that I was the catalyse for his shimmer of delicate satisfaction, and I thought for a split second before I laughed into the misty air, that what if, by some forbidden, twist of fate – That I was the only reason that he hadn't shifted into the true monster that he was?

_What if it is only a matter of time, after my departure, that the facade is gone and those eyes of brown, twist into black as does his beating heart?_

Flinching at my own fears, the idea was so painful to even picture, for if Kylo Ren retreated into a void, rather than the dull darkness that he already stands in now, I will solemnly feel the weight of the Universe fall heavily upon my guilty conscience.

I shake my head and wring the leather leash once around my gloved hand, "I can't tell if that is a backhanded complement or not." I chime with a sarcastic tone and the rise of an eyebrow.

With waves of tousled, black hair, Kylo ran a gloved hand through it and his wide shoulders relaxed as he shook his own head and laughed once – As if, in some mistaken way, he was also slightly nervous around me. 

"It's nothing but my astonishment for you, my Queen." He answers, to which his words strike my heart faster than a StormTrooper's blaster could. 

Mud caked my boots and squelched beneath my heels as I timidly grind them into the grass, "You know, you really don't have to keep calling me that..." I said slowly, staring only at the leather in my hands to avoid his dark eyes.

"No?" He said, amused as I watched through my peripherals, the way he clasped his hands together in-front of himself. 

I shake my head again and meet his eyes once more, "No. Not unless you want me calling you, my King." I grin.

_He won't ever get the chance to become King. Does that mean that Prince Dayvis will become the ruler of Jorkhan?_

"In all honesty, my Queen –" He sighed with a crease forming between his eyes as his thick eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, "I just wish that you would call me _yours."_

My mouth parted in shock and the feeling sent thousands of goosebumps to sprinkle across my skin. In a Universe of overruling and destruction caused by the endemic plague of The First Order, where cruelty is the cause and love the antidote, I find that the second option seems to be a much harder thing to grasp an understanding of.

I wish I could draw a line in the dirt with my fingers and tell him to stay on his own side, away from me, but I know that deep down, it would be me to cross the barricade that only I had made. Being distant from Kylo Ren is like wallowing in the freezing rain whilst looking through the window of a warm home, where the fireplace is running but the door's locked.

I know that there is something growing inside of me for Kylo Ren, and that is what truely terrifies me – When really, I should fear _him_ instead.

I have to leave. I have to get away from him before I grow to find that my heartstrings have knotted around his own, tying me in place right beside him, forevermore.

I stutter on words but I cannot find something to say, although it is the swashing of new feet in the dew and the calling from my _old_ friend, which ultimately saves the crimson from flooding to my cheeks. 

"Need any help?" Anwar shouts, his breath mystifying in the air – _My heart pangs._ He looks much healthier than he used to, no longer is his hair sitting flat on his shoulders and shining gold beneath a thousand layers of soot, but instead, it waves in the slight breeze and is the complete opposite to the dark locks of Kylo's – They were my light and dark, though, it seems that I felt more comfortable in the darkness, _remarkably._

Anwar's skin also radiated health and prosperity as the meat upon his bones were thickening, though still very tight with muscle – I can suddenly see why Anwar had decided to rat me out to Ruby... Look how much the wealth of the Kingdom, benefited the brittle bones and weak souls of ours. 

Kylo shakes his head as Anwar pulls a pair of gloves out of his back pockets with a curt grin, _"N–"_

I nod, "Yes!"

I didn't particularly want to spend my time with the pair of them together, but anything was better than facing the facts of my growing, burning devotion for the dark and brooding man which I should fear enough to stab the knife beneath my pillow, into his sinister heart.

But as I feel his dark eyes, burning into my back as Anwar helps me onto the saddle of the horse, I quickly realise that it was a bad idea to agree to the blonde boy's help, when his hands merely brush my thigh accidentally. 

"Watch your hands." Kylo Ren snaps from behind, stepping forwards and hallowing his gaze onto Anwar. 

Now straddling the horse, with Anwar narrowing his eyes to me as Kylo stands off, behind him – My guts twist anxiously as I try to apologise through my disgruntled gaze to Anwar and then widen them to Kylo, in attempts to tell him that there is no threat. 

Anwar's knuckles are white around the leather leash which wraps around the fist of the saddle and he sucks an aggravated, sharp breath inwards, "Sir–"

"It's okay..." I cut him off, then glaring to Anwar, "Kylo – He's only just trying to help."

The pale knuckles against his golden flesh, frightens me more than Kylo's silver lightsaber which sits menacingly by his hip – What was Anwar thinking? Surely, I didn't need Kylo's ability to read minds, for I can simply tell by the way his jaw tenses and his lips twist, that Anwar's blood is boiling and those white knuckles want to lay upon the man behind him. 

Anwar was incredibly foolish, I had to step in before he attempted to use those fists or sharp tongue, which would ultimately leave him limp at Kylo Ren's polished boots. 

There's a tense and smothering tension which seems to cross the land of Jorkhan in one sharp second and it is the most thick where the three of us are in the paddock of the Kingdom as Kylo Ren's eyes narrow, but he seems to back off because of my words. 

I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding tightly in my chest, when Anwar's shoulders finally seem to relax as he begins to walk the horse that I sit upon, around the paddock – Kylo Ren, following closely behind and watching Anwar like a vulture would eye an archer below, trying to figure out if it is a threat or not. 

I swallow roughly and lick my lips, my mind swirling and trying to find anything to fill the quiet, "So... Do the horses walk around the paddock regularly?" I ask as my body begins to bounce around the mare's movements. 

I already knew the answer, Anwar had often told me about how much he hated when owners wouldn't properly give their horses the exercise that they needed, and I knew that the golden man would treat these mares as if they were his own.

"Yeah – The horses tend to get a little agitated when they are cooped up in the stables for too long," He sighs, looking up at me and cocking a brow with a mischievous smile taking up most of his face, "But I take it, you already knew that."

His gloved hand brushes my own as he unwinds the lead from the harness around the horse head, giving me more ability to control the direction in which the beautiful horse, takes me. I flinch my hand quickly away and hope that Kylo didn't see.

My face falls whilst a shiver runs up my spine – A terrible heat flushes my body and my nerves hardwire to panic, hoping that for some unexplained reason, Anwar wasn't about to rat me out further, and accidentally slip up in the midst of my imitation, leaving Kylo Ren to figure out about our _friendship_ and who I really am, _or was._

I turn my head away from Anwar's grin, but too slowly to be normal. When I speak my voice trails slowly, like my cold words are unwilling to take flight. "I don't know what you mean," I mutter as my gloved hands wring tightly as I try to embed my fingernails into my palms around the lead, "I barely spend any time in the stables."

His hand brushes mine once more. 

Anwar rolls his eyes but fakes a simple tone, "Oh, right."

_There's that tension again –_ But Kylo's the first one to break it, once the horse has completed its second, slow, lap. 

"Look – I think she's had enough help now." Kylo says, to which Anwar stops his footing and I heave the horse to stand its ground as-well, "You can go."

The air is so brittle as I glance between the two men, that it could snap and if it doesn't, I fret that I might instead. I don't want there to be any ill tension between anyone, let alone my old best-friend and the dangerous man that I share a bed with.

But I must admit that I keep my silence purely because I also feel as if it is time for Anwar to leave the situation, especially after the moments where his grip along the leash kept rising to meet my own.

Whenever Anwar is stressed or angry, he goes somewhere quiet, to let the feelings of fear and sadness ebb and flow – Is that why he has always longed to escape Jorkhan? This world is a nasty place and maybe the grace of the stables, where he often ran off to, isn't enough to kill the burning rage which he has always held for the authorities. 

I wish tomorrow morning could come sooner, for I worry that it won't be long before Anwar turns into one of the war-fuelled peasants on the streets, who want to rage against the unfairness with violence – But Kylo Ren is no match to Anwar, Kylo is above and beyond the horse trainer's, mortal abilities, _rage or not._

"Ah. No?" Anwar chuckles as he looks to Kylo, taken aback, "It hasn't even been twenty minutes and she's still wobbly upon the saddle, it will take her a bit longer before she gets used to it. I better stay, just in case any dangers arise."

_The only danger is who you are fighting against!_ I want to shout at my foolish friend. 

"Trust me..." Kylo chuckles, but his laughter falls short as his eyes flicker from Anwar's dirty shoes and all the way to his face, "If there's any dangers, I will be the one to remove them." He says in a serious, flat tone – And I have no doubts about his words. 

I roll my eyes and smack my lips together, my bones tightening as the tension begins to make me incredibly uncomfortable, especially so high upon his horse, "I'd appreciate it if both of you idiotic fools would stop talking about me as if I am not here." I chime, in a sing-song tone, trying to make light out of the situation. 

They're not even listening to me – My smile tightens and my eyes widen. 

When Anwar stops talking, I always know that there's a problem. I've known him for nearly my whole, pathetic life and he isn't capable of silence unless his brain is in complete overload, pacing through the ways he can win the tormenting situation. Right now, his executive functioning is down to biting down his tongue and curling his fists again tightly, and that's when the panic within me, begins to build.

Suddenly, his teeth against his tongue isn't biting down hard enough it seems, for he snaps, "Really?" He asks in a sarcastic, heavy tone as his eyes narrow to Kylo Ren, "How long have you been familiar with horses? I heard that these species were only limited to a select amount of planets..."

Bleak, white clouds blossom in the blue and in the long horizon they take on silver hues, those deeper graphite tones that promise good rain, but the misty air must be laced with something dangerous today, for it seems that it has intoxicated Anwar to think that he stands a chance against The First Order's most elite, Apprentice. 

"Okay – That's enough." I try to cut in again, but just like before, neither of the men are listening to me. Anwar lets go of the leash and takes a swift step forward, as does Kylo – Closing the gap as both of their leather hands, curl into menacing fists.

Amid the wintry wind that blows my hair into artistic swirls, the dull rays of sunlight shine through the clouds conspire, only to constrict my system as the anxiety grows in the coldness of my blood and strangles me for my idiotic choice of allowing Anwar to join.

"Yes. That's true." Kylo Ren nods, then tilting his head to the side, "I'm glad you are familiar with your _pathetic_ job."

Glancing around with wild eyes of panic, I'm trying to find a way out of this, _any way_ – I need their attention off each-other and I need the tension to fly off their shoulders, but what can I even do when they aren't listening to me, or when I am sitting... _All the way_... _Up here?_

Anwar huffs a large breath, "On your adventures across the galaxy, did you get to train with some? Or like the rest of the worlds, did you just destroy them all–"

I fall off the horse. 

After letting go of the reins and letting my body swiftly sink to the side, it doesn't take long until I am crashing down onto the wet grass, where the dirt smears onto my shirt and small holes tears into my knees as I roughly land on them. I make sure to scream along my way down, ensuring the attention that I needed. 

The horse staggered sideways, and my boots accidentally pull on its long mane, to which the animal attempts to buck at, but Anwar is quick to pull it back and calm it down, before sharply crouching down to me and reaching for my hand, which before, he kept attempting to brush. 

Kylo Ren's dark eyes widen and his lips part as his brutal instinct seems to kick in as Anwar beats him to the ground to reach for me, as his own hand trembles by his lightsaber, but doesn't pull on it nor ignite it.

I must have _accidentally_ knocked the air from my lungs in the midst of my _on-purpose_ fall, for when I breath in and out, air won't enter my lungs. Starved for air, my heart raced at tremendous speeds, and my lungs shallowly rose and fell in time as I was the one, now looking up at Anwar. 

He crouched so perfectly, no longer with a gait of rage for the man behind him, but totally, golden and all, in the mist of the palace grounds with those green eyes that were as wide as mine as they perched onto the crown above my head, and then back to my eyes as he whispered and held out a hand to me.

"I've got you." He said, and for some unknown reason – As if I did, truely have Kylo Ren's mind-reading ability, I knew he meant that phrase in more ways than one.

I place my hand in his, expecting his greeting smile, but none comes. Instead, his mouth remains an uncharacteristic, grim, line amid his tan skin. 

Then, almost robotically, his hand curls around mine and flips it over before Kylo notices, using his fingers to shove something beneath where my glove ends at my wrist and I feel the slight sting of a paper-cut, burn as he shoves a folded piece of paper which once sat secretly beneath his glove, into mine.

Searching for answers, he gives me nothing else whilst my eyebrows knit together.

"Alright," He finally gives me that smile as he pulls me to stand, "That's enough for you today."

Now standing back on wobbly legs, Kylo comes to brush the dirt off my sleeves as my breathing becomes more rapid, more shallow all because of a piece of paper which I didn't even know, what was written upon it. 

But suddenly, in the fragile moments before my own anxious hurricane, Kylo hadn't realised that Anwar had slipped me a note, but I most definitely realise now, why Anwar had tried to brush my hands so many times...


	29. Thorns And Blades

_Meet me in the stables tonight. It's important._

_Meet me in the stables tonight. It's important._

_Meet me in the stables tonight. It's important._

The words fly in rings around my mind invariably but the silence of the barn is what truely makes my anxiety strike a nerve. 

The rain had finally stopped pelting against the grounds of the Kingdom the moment the hands of all clocks shifted to midnight – The time when, the moonlight of the two saucers in the sky, fall like a rich velvet blanket of white upon the black shadows of the night which swallow up the day, draining the colours to nothing but an illuminated grey. 

My chin trembles as I sigh a large breath of mist into the air of the cold barn, where the hay is spread below my feet whilst I sit on a ruffled stack of prickly straw. As midnight comes trailing along the hour I had spent waiting for Anwar, the birth of this fateful day, means everything which had happened to me, will soon be forgotten – Only the long trance ahead is filled with dreams and maybe, nightmares.

Today's the day – The wedding will be held beneath the rising sun and my destiny should have been given over to Kylo Ren and The First Order, even though I am not who they truely think that I am. 

The note which Anwar had slipped to me, sits crumpled in my hands and I only roll my eyes and throw it aimlessly into the layer of mud which sits in the corner of the barn, as the minutes only drag by slowly, for he had never shown up. It was easy to sneak out, _nearly two hours ago,_ for Kylo Ren had been relocated to new quarters for the night, as we are not supposed to see each-other until I am walking down the aisle.

The halo around my weakened heart, smoulders. Kylo had given me nothing but a quick kiss and a soft smile before he left, and that stupid grin of his would be the last thing I remember him by, that and the words he whispered into my ear, 

_"See you soon, My Queen."_

But I try not to think about him too much, for there is a burning desire to run to wherever he sleeps now and also walk down that life-changing aisle, tomorrow. What had happened to me in the past couple of days? Had the diminishing of the rain, finally washed away my grey skies and left me standing in the prosperous blue, where I can see with perfect vision, the way my soul craves Kylo Ren?

In the heady chill of the midnight moons, it was as tempting as ice water upon my heated flesh, to bite back the tears which began to rise above my vision as everything suddenly felt as if it is quickly coming to a conclusion. Up ahead is Anwar and I's, rendezvous where we will finally escape Jorkhan, just like we had always dreamt of doing – But we are not leaving as the same people we once were and surprisingly, there is something which is tugging me back down to the damaged surface of Jorkhan – Someone dangerous, who I would have never suspected that I would prefer the company of, rather than Anwar, my _once_ best-friend. 

There was a time when the stable boy, drove me mad with crimson cheeks and a childish crush which lingered in the open, innocent gape of my heart – But now? All I feel is a bruising in that same gape, where he had secretly tore away my innocence, burdening me a damsel in distress who had to live a life of imitation, all because he thought that it could benefit our brittle bones. And it did... _But what about my heart?_

My internal Kingdom is painting itself blue. This _royal imitation_ is no life which I could have lived happily and Anwar must have known that when he signed away my freedom to Ruby Mayse, who all along, was nothing but a traitor to the late King and her dead best-friend, the Princess. 

I chuckle low to myself, just as I completely give up faith of Anwar turning up as I scrape the heel of my boots in the dry hay, where flickers of deep red and brown, layer upon the once clean sticks. How remarkable, that I had grown to think that it would be Kylo Ren, who was, out of all the evil in the world, the most innocent? After-all, he had never been so harsh to me in the midst of my imitation. No – I knew who the real villain was and she was just as, if not crueler, than the Devil, who's flesh is the same colour as her flaming hair. 

It only makes matters worse when Ruby Mayse and Prince Dayvis, are somewhere in the palace right now, tucked tightly in their beds with their eyes and ears wide open, awaiting the news of Kylo Ren's death tonight, though it shall never come. Conflict burns in the joints of my bones. I can't kill him. I can't run from him. And I can't stay by his side – What else is there to even do?

I huff a broken breath as I finally stand from my place in the barn, where the soft winds howl through the gaps in the wooden panelling and there's a slight smell of metallic against the grimy smell of soot. Anwar's not coming. _Maybe, he had gotten preoccupied with handling all The Resistance plans for our escape tomorrow?_

I saunter back to Kylo and I's quarters, although he is not there to keep me warm as I curl against myself beneath the heavy sheets and tuck my hand beneath my head and pillow, my fingertips grazing the knife which Anwar had given to me only days ago. 

My eyelids never become heavy as I keep them staring at the way the breeze causes the lace curtains of the balcony, to sway in the moonlight, like waves would softly lap against the shore. I wonder what Anwar wanted to speak about, so urgently in the barn, but I knew that it was most likely just going to be us going over the plan for today, once again – But why hadn't he shown up? Had he forgotten? Or fallen asleep? The latter option wouldn't surprise me, I had often joked that the blonde boy could sleep through a war. 

I can hear my heart's anguished symphony playing even now and in the bittersweet melody, I can only sing a chorus of shadowed infuriation at my own benevolence for falling to the beat of Kylo Ren. It shouldn't be this painful – The bed shouldn't feel _cold_ without him. 

The sheets wrap around me in a cocoon of old insecurity which when slept upon, feels sharp in the midnight fear which takes ahold of my soul, multiplying my worries and delaying my will to leave Jorkhan. 

Just when my chin begins to tremble into the white sheets, which soften beneath the weight of my quick tears, I finally acknowledge that Jorkhan truely, never gave me anything worth staying for – But Kylo Ren is making me wish to keep my feet upon the ground, though I cannot dig my heels into the soil to stay by his dreamy side, for I would be digging the graves of every soul in Jorkhan with that stupid choice, which is only considered by my saddened, beating heart. 

And that sadness will last for all of my eternity away from him. It'll be like this forever.

_Forever._ What a strange word, when I don't even know what the future holds in a life lived away from Jorkhan, away from this imitation.

My bones slump like fallen oak into the mattress, leaden. I feel more so a corpse than a girl – _Than a Queen_ – I was nothing but a host for all of the ashes of my frail attempts to keep my heart docked away from Kylo Ren, where instead of anchoring it down, it merely tipped into his sea. 

He isn't my light at the end of this tunnel, he is the intense darkness but the flicker in the void is what channels me into it. It's an unexplainable feeling and phenomenon, which both intrigues and scares me, whilst also smacking me harshly with a yearning for the adrenaline which follows.

He's the darkest of nights. He's a haunting devote of a nightmare – He's nothing but a shadow, a tall, broad shadow, who stands in the doorway of my bedroom, breathing in deeply and staring me down with eyes of fire, which flicker in the moonlight with an emotion, I can't quite place.

"Kylo –" I sit up from the bed and choke on my own words, "Y-You're still up?"

I honestly, never thought that I would see him again, and yet, here he is... Always surprising me and giving me a tighter grip upon his anchoring, when the rising of the storm, which he creates himself, is beginning to drown me with antagonistic conflict.

No – No, why is he here! It was supposed to be like ripping off a bandage, it was supposed to be forever. 

"You're not meant to be in here." I shake my head when he sighs low and walks further into the room, where the moons laid their illuminance upon his perfect features. 

I swallow at the intensity of his eyes, as if he was lost in thought, deep behind the crease between his eyebrows, "– Technically it is the day of the wedding, and we're not meant to see each-other before the ceremony." I add.

His lips twitch first and then comes his deep voice to calm the lacing of shock to my veins, "How am I supposed to sleep, when my mind is fully awake?" He asked, as if it was a rhetorical question.

I can see my desire to leave Jorkhan, sway like metaphorical smoke which begins curling from his lips and dissolving into the palms of his hands, which are hidden between clenched fingers. 

He's leaning over the bed where I sit in the middle of the rumpled sheets and his eyes are the one's of a hunter, but I do not feel as if I am the prey in his trappings – I only wish I had more time than forever, I wish I had more time to play this foolish game of imitation, for Kylo was the prize in which I could have won.

I suck a sharp breath inwards, suddenly forgetting about being stood up by Anwar in the stables and instead, floating into the gravity of his sight.

I knit my brows together, "I am not so sure... Why is your mind awake?" I ask.

All at once, I am struck as he sits on the edge of the bed and holds a hand out to me, in which I crawl closer towards slowly. 

I want his pale, honey skin against mine as we fall into the pillowy and sweet seduction of these sheets which are cold without him. I want more time to hear his voice, low and soft. More time to study his grace and the dangers which lurk, his passion, the effortless way he moves. More time to feel his love, his heat, his eyes, so _alive._ It's his eyes, the way he looks at me and drinks my soul in like he also knows it's the last time he'll ever see me – But he doesn't, there's no possible way in which he knows. 

His naked hand, which is incredibly soft without the rough, black leather around it, tenderly falls upon my cheek and brushes a strand of my hair, behind my ear. "Because of you," Kylo whispers, "All I can ever think about, _is you."_

A feeling unlike no other, blossoms in the pits of my chest where he had planted his touches of lust, only for tendrils of... love? – To grow. 

No – It can't be love, I was nothing but a pawn on a chessboard where Kylo is moving my Queen piece around the tiles in a way where the enemies of his, are doomed to lose the game which was un-winnable in the first place. 

He's is the deuce of my cards, the royal flush to my cheeks and the shot of wine sliding down my drying, craving throat and yet his musk is nothing but intoxication to my nerves, which begin dancing in his raging fire as the walls of the Kingdom and the rest of Jorkhan, are to become nothing but ash in his power – Which I, the slum girl, will never give to him... For I had seemed to give him something of my own instead, when truely, my poverty owned nothing but what is now lost.

"I–"

Kylo cuts me off and his lips are only a fragile distance away from my own, and I know I should flinch away – _The tearing of a bandage_ – But I cannot find the strength to move.

He swallows roughly before he speaks, as if he has a lump in his throat which won't move unless he utters the knotting words out-loud, "I can't explain it, but you've seemed to captured me in ways which I never thought I could ever be caught."

He's the thrill of trespassing and the heat of the moment, makes my blood boil but as his other hand rises to place a thumb upon my bottom lip, the sensation is the cool of ice to make the burn nothing more than a healing cure.

Maybe, that's why I become numb to all my worries and conflict, whenever I am around him. A life forever by Kylo's side, is a life lived, doomed to rip my heart out of my chest, only for him to cradle it in one hand, as his other destroys my home, over and over without stopping and without hesitation. The reality overtakes the want within my needing soul, bubbling up and ready to explode, causing an immense wrath to brew across what I wish my future could be, and leaving the _certain_ ashes. 

"Kylo –" I breathe against his thumb, he only shakes his head and coos for me to become silent as he continues with a voice which I had never heard him use before – A voice which was fragile and open to becoming broken. 

"And I know you don't truely feel the same way, I don't need to read your mind to be able to tell," He croaked with a nod, "But – You must know what you have done to me."

My lips shake when he finally pulls his hands away from me, to which I try to follow them but he sits them upon his thighs, "W-What have I done?" I stutter as the heat begins to attack my face. 

He chuckles – But it isn't the type of mischievous laughter which he usually gives to me when there is a slight taunt to his words... No – This chuckle is low and seems as if it was only created to fill the silence. 

"What haven't you done to me?" Kylo Ren says with a small smile, where the corners of his lips twitch to the hiding of my obsession, "I always assumed that I was a goner, that I didn't deserve even the ounce of light in my forbidden darkness and yet, the Universe has given me you... _You –_ A woman who's soul is so incredibly pure, that I shouldn't even be able to walk the same planet as it, after all the terrible things that I have done."

And just like that – Kylo Ren had become broken. It was as if I had just watched all of his dangers, fall to the ground only to shatter around him and leave the bones of the real man in which he was, behind.

I try to give him a grin, but it falters as his own sharp, edged words, pierce into my fragile heart, where the longing bleeds a radiance, even in the dim of night. Kylo's distant smile, the one that I have become accustomed to more and more over the time I had known him, mends my wounds. But in the smile, I only watch the glory fade and replace it with my everlasting, pity, grief, sadness and heartbreak, which is to come when I leave him – But I don't want to leave him... 

I have always been too greedy, that's what becomes of someone who once had nothing and only wished for everything instead of a little. This time, I was the one to move closer, to fan my breath upon his stone features as I closed the distance between our separated lips – I couldn't stop myself, I was suddenly thrown off my moral balance but during the fall, I realise that I didn't merely slip, I was the one to let go of my conscious grip instead and just free fall towards his gravity. 

As our lips interlock, I suddenly taste my own realisation – It was bitter, yet surprisingly sweet. Whenever Kylo Ren was around, I couldn't seem to think straight, for all my thoughts surrounded him and were _always_ about him and yet, when he touches me so tenderly, I can't seem to think at all, I just feel him. 

I feel the connection, the attraction, the nerves, the shift of gravity which pulls our hearts closer together – But the pain follows and it is always the reminder that I am not the one who his soul thinks that it is twining its heartstrings around, but rather... _I am an imposter._

_I want to stay with him._

"Kylo..." I whisper as I pull away from his mouth and as his eyes flutter softly open, I finally give him a peaceful smile, "You're all I think about too."

And there was that grin of his again, right before he swooped back to my lips. 

Kissing Kylo Ren was like kissing a rose. The petals of his lips are warm, red and sinisterly soft, but deep beneath the velvet touch of his beauty, were sharp thorns hiding, ready to prick one's fingers if they came too close – But as my trembling hands rise to his cheeks, he doesn't slice my skin open and force me away, he only pulls me closer to his heart of daggers, which will certainly be the death of me if I follow my own heart and walk down the aisle tomorrow. 

He kissed me until my lips went numb and then began nibbling along my neck and collarbones. My nightgown is nothing but silk and it only adds to the sensation of this overwhelming trickling of water upon my laced skin, as he begins to run his hands like waves along my curves. He kissed my shoulders, the hollow of my throat, the bust above my rapid heartbeat. 

Pushing me down into the crashes of sheets, he kneels over me but I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him to my ocean of desires once more. With eyes closed and my hair splayed over the bed, a small moan escaped my lips and the sound muffled the inner voicing of my conscience, which never thought that I would see Kylo Ren again.

It's as if a million, shining stars and comets had just aligned but one planet had missed its place right in the middle, causing a massive gape in the glory – It seems as if I had made up my mind as I began to kiss his own neck now. I was going to stay by Kylo Ren's side, so long as he was _alive..._ And that's what is truely, dangerous.

I ran my fingers through his dark hair, and with every kiss he gave back, I dug my fingers a little bit deeper into the silk of his locks. 

There was no hiding from it anymore, there was only a clarity to bemuse me – I was drawn to him the moment that I had seen him below the Princess' balcony, even if it was the fear which made my knees shake before him in the banquet. _Damn him_ – Kylo Ren had managed to break every single one of my high walls and one-by-one, he had pushed bricks out of the barrier of my defences, though I must admit, I had never tried to pave the bricks back into place with every broken fall he caused. 

All at once, Kylo Ren turned my body around gently and slowly slipped my silk gown off my body, to run a finger along my spine and to where the heat of my body, ran to. As his fingers began to circle and slip up and into me, he continued to kiss my bare skin which became exposed to an army of goosebumps.

Throwing my head back and into the crook of his neck, I was focusing on the sheer joy of feeling Kylo's hot breath on my cool skin. Tingles were racing up and down my spine, whilst my core was clenching for more around two of his long digits.

This must be some forbidden dream, for I cannot simply be filled with a certain knowingness now, my conflict cannot be suddenly resolved. Our bare skin together is like a fire rekindled from sleeping embers, and I'm too far gone to recoil from the searing hot that I know will fester later.

Look at me, no longer is there barbed-wire around my heart, which will soon be free but the freedom of leaving with The Resistance in someways, does also feel like a life lived un-healing – The strings of my heart are singing a song much more soulful than any chime of an instrument, and it is reaching out for him as he leans me onto the mattress slowly, his hands sliding up my thighs like a sculptors hands would mould clay. 

This isn't right. I can't stay nor leave Kylo Ren, for he will cause nothing but destruction purely in the sake of my own heart's greed – _He must be the one to leave, no matter the result of heartbreak._

His sinister soul seemed to be magnetic, though I suppose opposites attract. _How had I allowed my innocence to covey in the hands of a monster?_ Easy – He was never a beast to me, he showed me nothing but beauty, whilst hiding his darkness away from my light. 

_But the darkness is still there!_ My conscience cries in the back of my mind as I whimper into his mouth, and I know that – I know she is speaking nothing but the truth, purely to keep me safe... And that's why I must leave him, lonesome at the end of the aisle, but all at once – I realise, that I know there is no way I will be able to leave him tomorrow morning. 

There was no escaping Kylo Ren, even if I ran to the farthest depths of the Universe, I am certain that he would already be there before I arrive, ready to curl me back into his warm grip... So I must do what has been required of me, _all along._

I guess, in many ways – This was how I was saying my goodbye. This was me savouring his touch before I make him fade from the Universe, away from all of of the dark dangers which linger.

Tears flooded down my cheeks when he finally pulled me to the head of the bed and lied me down, before undressing and burying himself into my inviting embrace – But he didn't stop his movements, nor ask me what was the matter, for my moan was enough for him to only attempt to wipe the salty drops away before curling his hands into my hips.

Kylo Ren began to love me as gently as he could. He winced at the pained look that crossed my features, and then began to relax as I opened my eyes and smiled at him again, but the trembling of my lips still added to the hint of hesitations. 

I was filled with wonder, and was amazed at how close Kylo and I had become, despite the wrath of the world and all the cruelty that comes with it, around us. I knew both of our hearts were beating so fast, and the sweat began to bead up on his skin as did mine. We found our own rhythm, and began to truly love one another for the first and last time. 

The exact moment when I know what I have to truely do to end all of this wrath, power and _love_ – Kylo Ren shudders as he reaches his climax and pulls out of me. 

I sob and clench my eyes closed as my hands curl beneath my pillow and just as my fingertips graze the hilt of the dagger beneath the feathered cushion, Kylo whispers something into the misty-raptured air.

"I am sorry, my love." 

Suddenly, his big hands slide away from my hips and are upon the sides of my temples in one quick motion. It started with a slight shimmer, like the air in front of me was being warped and twisted as the moonlight and the warmth of his brown eyes, began to collide into one big portrait that resembled the mess of the smeared painting from weeks ago. 

I scream a murderous cry and with my naked flesh still against him, I try to cower away from his intrusion, but he's already tearing through the cavities of my mind, my thoughts and all of my secrets. 

My mind's a kaleidoscope of broken hues but as he shrinks into it, he replaces it with a void which was made of pure darkness. It's heavy, suffocating. It covers everything in his path as he tries to find whatever he is looking for and there is no room for light to come and save me anymore. 

The pain is unbearable – It feels like someone is reaching inside of me and is injecting poison into every pulse of my veins, where the blood only carries it along to my heart and mind, and the slice of my palm as I grip onto the sharp silver edge of the dagger beneath my pillow, bleeds a duller pain that what he suddenly causes.

I try to resist Kylo but the wreckage he causes eats away at my flesh, tearing me apart and leaves me empty as he plucks everything he can, out of me. When the void starts to pull my mind into his realm, I scream as the fright begins to ignite in the depths of my bones, the adrenaline quickening the pace of my heart.

He sees it all, just as I do – The orchards, the StormTroopers, the girls, the coins, the imitation, the poison, the lies, the deceits, the death, the plans and The Resistance... _Kylo Ren sees it all._

_Just as I was finally curling in the palm of his hand._

Within the seconds that realisation kicks in, my eyes have frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth – I can still see him behind the haze, if I focus enough and just as I grit my teeth together, causing a welt to form as I accidentally bite open the wound in my cheek, I find sudden strength to pull myself through his intrusions to slip out my bleeding hand from beneath my pillow... _And strike the blade across his face._


	30. Game Of Imitation

The blade whistles through the air and time seems to slow as my wide eyes meet his adoring orbs of brown, which in the matter of nano-seconds, flinch close as the dagger swipes across his handsome face.

My adrenaline is shooting through my nervous veins and my naked body is on fire, jolting and shaking beneath his hands in attempts to flee, just the same as my pulsating heart wishes to escape the cage of bone around its dreadful beat.

The knife which had sat beneath my pillow _– The one that Anwar had given me –_ Strikes Kylo's cheek of soft and pudgy flesh and the blood snaps beneath the splitting surface, where his freckles once gathered like cancellations upon the pale-white skin, which now turns crimson as the wound bleeds and spurts even upon my frightened features.

His skin was tearing to shreds as the knife dragged from across his eyebrow-bone, just missing his eye and then deeply sliding down his right cheek. The sound of his muscle and skin being violently torn crack through the tension before his sounds of pain do. Then, without warning, I jerked it all the way back to my pillow by my own head with white knuckles gripping the hilt with further intentions but the shaking of my arms seem to despise my bravery.

The blood upon the silver blade, bleeds into the white pillow and seeps into the feathers below the fabric. His cry was a sound of absolute surprise and anguish, guttural chokes mixed with an agonised roar.

The thoughts are accelerating inside my head like a horse with no leash gallops for freedom. I want them to slow down or pull against the reigns so I can make my next move, but they won't stop using up my energy and leave me like a stone statue beneath him.

He had seen it all – Kylo Ren, the most dangerous man in the entire galaxy, knows that I had lied to him this entire time. I had to save myself, and yet, my eyes widen as the taste of metallic drops onto my parted lips and I gasp as if I wasn't the one handling the very knife that had stuck him so dangerously.

Kylo Ren makes a gurgled sound as the blood drips into his own mouth and he then yells in sharp pain as his hands let go of me to tremble to the deep slice in his face – But the pain was nothing to him, he had endured worse than a simple blade, so I act fast as his eyes too, turn red.

My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will black out because my heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its worthless life. I convulse beneath Kylo Ren, kicking and punching my way off the bed, tangling my legs in the blankets until eventually falling smack on my knees and then back up again, running towards the door, _naked_ – My adrenaline is trying so hard to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with, but the ultimate fright is what keeps me in flight mode.

I didn't know what else to do. There was never a plan of Kylo Ren finding out, it was always just, don't let him find out – And as the sight of his eyes glazing over as if he was in a daydream when he had torn through my brain, embeds itself a new place in my now, desecrated memory as if he had shoved aside everything else and slot himself there comfortably and with sinister purposes, I know that whatever is to come, cannot be good nor safe.

I feel so sick and I can still feel the way Kylo had clawed his way through every twining path of my mind, plucking out what he wished to see and steal what was the most secret parts of my soul. The room is spinning around me but the foyer just outside the bedroom door, is in sight and it's the only thing that is keeping still – _Until, the hardwood slams shut without a single hand upon the doorknob to close it._

Just when my throat makes a noise as the pure fear is shocked out of my lungs, I snap back around with wide eyes and a petrified frame of wobbling limbs, to face the bleeding and raging, Kylo Ren.

He had managed to pull his black pants up from the middle of his thighs and over his indecency in the time that I had sprinted across the room, for fingerprints of blood were smeared across his lower abdomen of white muscle which gleamed in the moonlight, which was beginning to ebb into the blossoming of dawn.

With an outstretched, bloodied hand, Kylo Ren had used his force to slam the door that I now pressed my back against and there was no defying his undeniable ability, no matter how much I screamed and pulled against the golden knob.

I watched him as the intensity of the situation began to settle among my bones like thick cement and the heartache began to grow in the realisation of what that stare back at me, meant. The real Princess' portrait was hung above the wall behind him, her face casted with his tall shadow like a blank canvas, a space which is no longer filled.

The day of the wedding is upon us, but there is no longer hopes of an escape nor is there even an imagination of me walking down the aisle towards the face which is scowling at me as if I were the one to perish the world in which we both would own without true impartiality.

The summery glow which rises along the hills outside the window, filtered through as if it was the constant reminder of where I belong. I don't fit in the cold palace with golden plates and crowns, I belong among the endless hills of greeneries and beneath the golden suns, which burn my skin just the same as my joints do with hours spent picking.

Hot tears are flooding down my face, faster than the blood dries along his neck and more replaces the smear across his right cheek, where the wound is deep and scarring. I'm utterly terrified, more than I have ever been before as I choke on my own guttural sobs and blindly face my back to him as I pound my hands now against the door and cry for help – But as his footsteps thud behind me, I know that I am truely, doomed.

In one vicious yank, my hair is curled around his fist and he pulls me away from the door and practically throws me back upon the bed. My scalp feels violated as it ferociously stings and even locks of my hair are stuck against the blood of his hand.

Crying loudly as I claw myself now up the bed, my shaking fingers reaching back for the dagger which was my first weapon, all I can smell is Kylo's blood, my salty tears and the ever-present smell of sex, which had soon turned into nothing but murderous violence.

But just like the door, as soon as my fingertips graze the silver, the blade moves with the power of his force, slicing my palm as it soars through the air, curling the curtains of the balcony and embedding itself into a white pillar with a loud crack, as if there was a storm of lighting and that was the thunderous bellow of what was to come.

I suck a sharp breath inwards and curl my fingers against the raging pain in my hand, which bleeds quickly as the adrenaline which soars through my blood, intoxicates my heart to only shoot it out my wound without a care for the white and rich sheets of the bed, he and I, once stained with nothing but whispers of passion.

In one quick movement, I scream as I feel his wet and large hands smack upon the goose-bumped flesh of my hips and Kylo leaves me incredibly winded as he flips me over and nearly smacks the back of my skull against the headboard, only for me to now face his bloody wound and the pair of raging, murderous eyes above it.

Those disregarding eyes were as sharp as the knife that was used to also welt the wound in my cradled hand which I kept against my bare chest, which shudders as I heave for air but nothing but the fear was sucked into my tight lungs. Kylo Ren is quick to resume the position that we were once in, as he kneels above me and presses my wrists into the pillows with his revengeful grip which leaves bruises the moment his nails also prick the flesh.

In the span of only a few minutes, conflicting feelings, desirous hope and what could have even been considered to be the spurting of petaled love, had turned into sinister betrayal, revealing of lies and daggers. All combined, it was a brutal massacre of a once loving heart, which had now turned putrid and cold to the touch.

My chin shook and my face scrunched as I looked up to his ferocious face. His raven hair is disheveled and sweaty, odd tufts sticking up at the side from where he'd ran his fingers through it to remove it from the damaging cut across his face. Dirt and grime and a layer of sweat cling to his face, where his plush and inviting lips are now curled and reveal the sharp teeth of his as those eyes narrow onto me with nothing but pure _hatred_ swimming in the oceans of brown.

_"I knew it."_ He seethed, sending a mixture of both blood and spit to freckle my face.

The trepidation in his voice was obvious, and if it weren't for the ferocity of his tone and the lace of his crimson face, I'd feel an odd pang of sympathy for him. My mind was crumbled and aching in the harassing touch which he had wrecked havoc upon the tendrils of my curling thoughts, which also once longed for him and even thought about staying by his side through this colossal mess of a life, but now as I see the true cruelty in his soul as he had seen my own too... All that has flown into the dawning sky and left me with nothing but the need to survive, _the only thing that I have ever known._

I try to thrash once more against his grip, my fingers clawing at the sheets or trying to reach for his own fingers which are wrapped tightly around my wrists. I'm screaming, shouting and spitting at Kylo with as much hatred as he stares with, but he doesn't flinch – He's staring deep into my soul once again, trembling over the high boarders, knocking down the thick walls and cutting all my barbed wires. It feels like he is tearing my insides to shreds and dangling it in front of me. My screams briskly fall into silent shudders as the fright begins to ignite in the depths of my bones, the adrenaline quickening the pace of my heart.

"For how long?" I ask below him, attempting to force my voice into one of clarity, but the rage is what smothers my voice with uncertainty.

The man grins at me through sly lips. He knows he has the upper hand and he indeed, always has. He can't hide the immorality in his eyes and for the very first time, the power balance has just shifted darkly between us – There was no mistaking that look, it was the very look that many have spoken about in whispers, _the whispers which I refused to believe._

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye and his mouth formed a rigid smirk of utter evil, "The whole _damn_ time." He snapped, his eyes scolding me with insecurity and shock, causing waves of nausea which added to my bleeding misery, which resembles the blood which constantly runs from the cut in my palm, down my wrist and though the fingers he holds around it.

My thin heart is running through time and space, looking, and will always keep looking in the blackness for a sacred spark, which had only died in the chest of Kylo Ren – Kylo Ren wasn't who I thought he was, but neither was I to him and I can tell clearly now, that this was the end of all lies.

My mouth falls and a small whimper escapes it, "You mean... You were lying this whole time?"

His face is still dark in the clash between night, day, and him – Kylo Ren, was the blackest of all nights. He coldly chuckles into my face as the blood still seeps from the welt across his cheek, which only minutes ago, I cradled with my hands.

He knew all along! This makes no sense, why had he been playing along for so many weeks? Why did he constantly hold me every-night if he knew that I was a filthy girl from the slums and not the Princess of Jorkhan? My mind is in shambles and scatters, but his pensive and hurtful grip is what keeps me stationary.

"Isn't it obvious?" Kylo cocked his head to the side and ran a tongue along his bloody, bottom lip, "I suppose you and I indeed, share something in common..." He drawled, fanning a heated breath onto my chilled flesh.

I swallowed harshly as my eyes only began to bury themselves beneath another layer of fat tears, "Which is?" I croaked.

Kylo's thick eyebrows raise, causing blood to spurt out of the wound again and drip onto my face below him as I stare with a petrified gaze, into the menacing orbs above me.

He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, "We were both just playing a game of imitation." He utters the words so violently to the weakness of my tarnished heart.

I can feel the chill soar through my blood, the coldness bringing the synapses of my brain to a standstill, unable to process anything as I stiffen numbly in the overbearing heartache. Kylo's hands relax as he relishes in the stunned expression upon my face.

My sadness is suffering in the silence and empty space where my heart once tried to blossom feelings for the dangerous man above me, but now, those petals have fallen and died into a mimicking of the black soul he possesses.

Kylo Ren's sadistic smirk is driving me crazy and punching itself into my guts to only slither up to my heart, manifesting itself through my swirling emotions. I shook my head against the bloodied pillows and spoke in a fragile whisper, "I didn't wish to."

Kylo finally lets go of my wrists and wipes my own blood from off his hand, across his pale and stone-like chest, sending crimson to smear against the perfect white. My fingers twitch as the pulse soars into the areas which he had cut off the circulation from and as I now lay in the position that I was before I struck him across with one of the knives, I recall the second butter-knife beneath my pillow, which must bluntly gleam with hope.

He chuckles once again and only tilts his head to the other side as if he wanted to inspect the terror in my eyes from every angle, "No?" He chimed sarcastically, "But you are a good actor."

My hand slowly creeps below my pillow as his eyes flick to my trembling lips which speak slow and clear, "Not all of it was acting."

My fingers glide through the cold and incredibly empty space between my pillow and the mattress and just when my eyebrows knit together and the sweat drips down the crease between my eyes, I feel the press of silver to my neck, sending my naked body into a hot flush of more panic.

"Spare me from more of your lies." Kylo seethes as he presses the butterknife to my neck, the very one I had stolen many weeks ago, which looked harmless but I knew that if it was in his hands, it could quite possibly be the most dangerous weapon in the Universe.

Paring a knife intended for cutting, against pure and fragile flesh, he only held it against my neck for a split second of warning, before then pulling it away and holding it to the light, a rich silver handle and curved blade. Then he throws it to the floor and it bangs against the hardwood with a loud and crashing echo, as if he truely never cared for such a useless weapon for he knew he was the most dangerous thing, himself.

He smiles, "I always thought it was quite endearing the way you slept with a pair of daggers beneath your restless head." Kylo mocks me, "The trapping of your mind is constantly twining and running with those tantalising thoughts of yours. I must admit – I tried to block them out, but sometimes they were just so... _Loud."_

_How could I have been so foolish?! Of course he had read my thoughts all along._

I gasp as the knife falling still echoes in my mind, my heartbeat mimicking the fall, "They were right," I blinked, sending the tears to soar down my face, "– You are a soulless!" I spat.

He wrinkled his brow and looked at me the way he would when General Hux made a comment that he didn't agree with, but never-less, he kept that damn smirk upon his face. I had seen it plenty of times during those banquets, when General Hux leaned into his ear but now I fret that maybe they whispered about how everyone in Jorkhan was so ignorant to the lies that surround them, _including me._ It was all an act, Kylo Ren never really cared for me. Ruby was right, he only cared about power and destruction, and he would do anything if it meant getting it.

His words are circling my mind, _"We were both just playing a game of imitation."_ – But for two very different reasons, I see this clearly now. Ruby never even wanted me to play the role of the Princess, it was the King who made me do it in order for the union between The First Order and Jorkhan, after the secret death of the real Princess, which Ruby and the Prince were going to do again, if it weren't for me accidentally poisoning the King, leaving Ruby to form the plan of killing Kylo, which he had tricked me into not doing by giving me a false sense of love – And love is the ultimate blindness to imitation.

"Aw – Come on, My sweet little, Queen." Kylo cooed as he ran the back of his fingers along my cheek to which I try to flinch away from, leaving him to slap me sharply once and then grip my chin harshly but I keep my eyes closed, "You know I don't like that word." He growled.

I snap my eyes back open to his and glare with stinging eyes of dreadful hurt, "It's the truth!" I scream, trying to lift myself up but my legs are trapped beneath his thighs, "Everyone knows it and now I do so too!"

In one quick movement, Kylo Ren lets go of my chin and strikes a fist into the bedhead, right next to my face. His force boomed in the now stunned silent room as the plaster behind the wooden frame, glided and rained down around us, tickling my nose with dust and the remnants of the hole in the wall.

Rage builds like deep water currents. Fear boils like burning lava beneath it. My stomach is swirling faster than any axis and the gravity is pulling it into my throat. There's sweat beads falling down the sides of my temples and I feel as if I am going to spill my guts onto the wound across his face.

Kylo's eyes shifted from the bedhead and then back to me, narrowing with a perpetual darkness.

"Was that Ruby's words?" He sneered, "You know, I never quite liked that ginger girl, but I must admit, despite her thievery, sly lies and menacing scowls... She does prove loyalty to her Kingdom."

There was anger flooding every corner of my system and it starved all the colour in my watery eyes. My soul was drowning in a carving that I had to force my features into a showing of indifference. In that same mask of defiance, my blood was already browning with those sickly matted clumps upon my palm, that could be fragments of what was once a bright soul which only bled for freedom.

Loyalty for her Kingdom, it was something that I had always known her to hold, but how had she shown that to Kylo? I furrow my brows and scowl, "Ruby–" I begin, but Kylo ultimately cuts me off as he leans closer to my face, his nose just brushing mine which sucks in the scent of his wound.

"The pair of you two are absolute idiots. Did you really think that you could trick me? That you could fool The First Order!?" He screamed at me, "She definitely did – She'd do anything to save her own skin... After-all, Ruby was the one who told me about your little boyfriend's plans and affiliations with the Resistance."

The yell was a violence in the air, a way to take the anger from his chest and transfer the tension, morphing and twisting it to the resemblance of fear inside of me. Kylo Ren didn't just raise his voice, his muscles tensed and veins popped in his neck as he pulled away to heave above me.

Ruby knew about Anwar's affiliations with The Resistance... And she told Kylo Ren... Just so she could erase the possibility of me fleeing Jorkhan, without killing Kylo Ren first.

_I'm going to kill her._

His words sink in the way a pebble would drop in quicksand, slow and devouring. All at once, the realisations strikes me sharper than any dagger could cut and my eyes blow wide as I thrash around screaming with sudden determination.

In the mess of throwing limbs, I manage to strike my fist along the wound of his cheek, causing blood to squelch out and spurt across my knuckles, but I don't pay much attention to that as I only continue to squirm.

"Anwar!" I cry out the name as I pull my legs out from under Kylo and leap towards the edge of the bed, falling off it and leaping back up, picking up the butterknife and holding it out towards him with a weak attempt of threat, "Where is he?!"

I feel the rage in his violent soul and it turns my veins to ash as Kylo too, stands from the bed and slowly saunters up to me and the pathetic knife in my hands.

Dark brown eyes studied my trembling frame and I was certain they didn't miss the way my hands constantly slid over the silver of the knife due to the amount of blood upon them and the painful cut in my palm.

Where his eyes had been filled with suspicion before, something different filled them today, something much more violent, cruel and devastating – There was no saviour in his eyes, there was no man who wished to, _take me amongst the stars._

My mouth quivers and the tears slowly run down my face, mixing with the sweat, trepidation and tangible blood, "Kylo, where's Anwar?!" I scream as I hold the butterknife with both hands.

I feel like I am drowning and there is no hope of being saved. The blackness of my memories start to spread through my mind, clouding my thoughts and taking me back to places I never wanted to revisit – The golden hair, cheerful smile, home-like voice and always loving nature.

Kylo Ren only moves in closer, his body covered in both his blood and my own, and the suns are both dawning upon the pale flesh of his chest, where beneath the movement, is the cold heart that I once held my hands up to for warmth – _Or the imitation it heated me with._

His jaw tenses and the blood only keeps pouring from that wound in his face, which much hurt incredibly, but he talks as if it isn't even there, "I think you know where he is, you Resistance scum." Kylo simply says, and although he left a space for the imagination to saunter, I knew exactly what he meant.

He smirks above me as the knife only pudges against his stomach, but I make no effort to press it in any further as I cry and wail with realisation.

"Looks like you don't have a way out of here anymore." He shrugs, then curling his own hand around the blade and pulling it away.

The revelation came and the silence that followed, gnawed at my twisting insides, like a gaping void, needing to be filled with sounds, words, anything to focus my mind away from the grief, fear and apprehension, but the silence was only poisonous in its nothingness and eerily unnatural, like a battle devoid of gunfire.

Swallowing my last bit of nerves, I cast an eerie look back to Kylo's eyes, they were nothing but empty, there was nobody in the depth of the brown, nobody but a monster.

I can feel my muscles straining and the thoughts in my head turn from fear to a dizzy confusion. In the grip of silent terror, wild eyes, pupils dilated, heart racing, brain on fire – The panic is building like an unstoppable fireball in the pit of my stomach.

I stutter around the choking sobs I elute, "Y-You killed him?"

Kylo groans as he raises a hand and lightly touches the gash along his cheek, "And you almost killed me." He says with disinterest.

My chest suddenly felt as if a red, hot coal was burning through it. My heart was in shatters and my brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of every pore and from my mouth came an intrusive cry, so raw as my eyes flooded with tears at the loss of my best-friend.

An anger that I have never felt before, curls in my abdomen and rises with the lump in my throat. I am staring into Kylo's eyes with a defiant look. My heart is hammering but I keep my eyes narrowed with no hint of hesitation. Kylo only pushed his face closer, and I knew retreat would be a disaster as my show of weakness is a path for him surge through with his games. Nothing in my face betrayed the fear, it was a mask of defiance and hatred.

"So – Now what?" I spit with my voice laced with certain venom, knowing that my death was sure to come as well, "Are you going to kill me too? After everyth–"

Suddenly, all the air within my lungs evaporates as my airways tighten and I fall to my knees by his feet. My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as I crane my face up at his darkened eyes which look down at me with disinterest as my fingers claw at my neck, but find no hand to draw from strangling me. My heart starts to beat harder and faster, my adrenaline levels rising as the tears which spilled from my eyes, seemed to dry as did the hot blood in my veins.

Just when I feel all the colour in my face, fade and my chest cave in as if my organs had been sucked into a black hole, a wide grin forms upon Kylo Ren's face at my suffering. Everything hurts, I feel as if every inch of my skin is being tortured and my lungs are crumbling into dust.

After scraping my nails along my neck, I hold them out for Kylo, pleading for him to withhold his power and grant me oxygen, but as I topple onto my palms and hunch over my knees, trying to suck in air but nothing reaches passed my tongue, I watch through the haze of my sight as Kylo's feet began to do laps around my weak body, intimidating me even more, like a lion would taunt it's prey before slaughtering it.

His smirk never faded, only became more prominent as his tongue peeked out for a moment to lick his bottom lip, which had been painted a glorious red – And then suddenly, the grip around my throat is gone. I heave in oxygen as if I had never inhaled before – It shocks my lungs and my heart beat quickens as I lay vulnerable beneath the very man who destroys worlds – The man who I was about to lose my life to, just the same as I had lost my love for him.

If the pain of regaining my breath wasn't sharp enough, when Kylo Ren steps on my bleeding hand and digs his heal into the bones but not yet crushes them, I use what I had just spent so long to heave inwards as I scream it right out as he speaks softly below my cries, "Oh, No." He tutted, speaking about my previous question, which I assumed the answer was in his violent act of force choking me, instead.

His foot leverages off my hand and I shriek as I pull it to my chest, still hunched naked over my knees as he continues, "If I truely cared about your lies, I would have killed you the very moment that I laid eyes upon you and sensed the thievery... But it seems, that the rest of Jorkhan cannot see through your lies... _Nor your imitation."_

My face contorts into an ugly wail as I glance back up at him to see the demented gaze, which seemed as if he was enjoying the clash of my pain, vulnerability, shock and heartache.

Kylo swallows briskly and kneels down to me slowly, tilting my head closer with two long fingers below my chin, "To this world's eyes, you are the Queen of Jorkhan – The barer of the wealth, land, and the people." He whispers low as his brown eyes study me, "It would be a waste to kill you. You're still going to become my bride and then after Jorkhan and the wealth of the planet becomes The First Order's, I will then decide what I am to do with you."

The haunting smile of his, brings misery upon me and the vicious abuse of power, lays in the palm of his hand which softly holds my chin. In the tight grip of panic, wild eyes, pupils dilated, I realised in one simple flicker of my eye, that Kylo Ren was acting all this time, because he never cared if I was the Princess or not, he just wanted to ensure that I was willing to hand over Jorkhan to the Order.

He _was_ utterly, evil.

I am nothing but a servant and he is the master of the strong, the enemy of the good – Why hadn't I ever questioned his actions and motives, when I clearly knew that this whole Kingdom was filled with lies?

I once thought that every royal family has forged their blood on lies, but it seems that Kylo's very same words from weeks ago, were true – _"But you, my Princess, will soon figure out that people will do anything for money and power." –_ And that's exactly what he did and he's won. He killed Anwar and he took away my only way out of Jorkhan.

The only way to save the planet from destruction, is the Queen's death or his and even then, Kylo isn't stupid enough to grant me any sympathy of letting me die and I am not strong enough to overbear his forceful strength to kill him instead.

Rigid, paralysed and winded, I am struggling to regain my breath and clarity, but I wouldn't let it be seen by the ruthless man who had fooled me all while I thought that I was the one fooling him. With all my will, I prevented myself from gasping inwards a large breath and crying. Only through parted lips, I drew tiny gasps as I shook my head.

"No..." I whimpered, but just as our eyes shift into a lining again, he smirks as he pulls his hand away to stand, pulling me up in the air with the force too, leaving my toes to scrape against the floor.

Kylo hovered right there, quite soundless for so long, simply staring me down with a dark stare as if behind those eyes, he was intricately planning on what to do to me, before I am to be shoved into white and waltzing down an aisle.

Fear floods my system again, whilst adrenaline pricks my skin and beats in my heart like it's trying to escape. I think my chest will explode and my eyes are wide with fear as I watch the way he then wipes the wound upon his face again, scoffing at the amount of blood.

Kylo's eyebrows raised, and he looked back and forth between his hand and I, in quick succession, a smile tugging at his lips. Kylo winked when I caught his eye again, "I must admit, I have forgotten to get the rings ready for today..."

My breathing became rapid as the tears returned now with a vengeance as did his malicious intentions as he cocked a brow and tilted his head upon me, "But I think we can match in another way."

His other hand is still held out towards me, but it seems he wasn't keeping it there to leave me levitating in the air, he was reaching for something else instead. I can hear the metal whirring through the air and all at once, it barely clips my shoulder and smacks into his hand.

Kylo held his weapon evenly in his grip as if it weighed nothing heavier than a feather, a perfect, undaunted horizon and then, to my dismay... He ignites his lightsaber.

A diffused and crackling, red light was beaming down upon me, which made an eerie contrast with the beaming glow from the balcony, giving the devil who held it, a crimson halo.

I roar into the morning, "No!" But it was too late.

In almost the suspended stretch of time, I watch the way Kylo glides the red saber behind his back, only to scowl and quickly strike it in the space between us, the tip of the burning and cracking weapon, just brushing my cheek, leaving the skin to fizz and melt into the same design of the slice upon his face.

When the heat laces my skin, I am left with a scream burning up my constricted throat, and only then do I feel the intense pain. It burns as if I had pressed my face up against the heat of the suns. I can smell the scent of my burnt flesh and I am scared to open my eyes just incase he hadn't missed my eye and I was left blind.

"Now, it's like we were made for each-other." He says softly as the purr of his lightsaber, silences with a click, "Although, I will miss that little fake birthmark of yours."

I hold my bleeding palm to my cheek and cry into the crimson as the liquid only seeps into the wound which doesn't bleed but instead, leaves me incredibly damaged and scarred.

"See you midday, when you walk down the white aisle." I hear Kylo say as his feet scuffle out of the room, satisfied with the mark in which matches his own, _"– My Queen."_

_And then he is gone._

My soul is hollow and my throat becomes tight once more but it is only the fateful hands of grief who are squeezing it. When my sobs have ebbed into soft whimpers and the silence of an early morning returns, I can hear the taunting whispers that mellow into the space of the quarters, where blood resides and lies have been buried. I had lost. I had lost everything, Anwar, my freedom, hope and my heart. I had lost everything and he had left me with nothing but a burning scar as a reminder for the fate to come.

When the void starts to pull my mind into that fragile state of sudden survival, I inhale a large breath as I finally open my eyes to scan the mess of the room, which he is no longer residing in – But his darkness still lingers, it's sinking in the white walls and its slowly settling into the void of my heart, ready to capture me and vanish my light within.

As the sun rises, I watch the orange hue of remembrance, cascade down upon me. I know tensing against the shaking of my limbs is useless but I do it instinctively, trying to suppress for a few more moments what I know I cannot. I need to drink in the silence to counteract the apprehension that threatens to engulf me.

I hate this place. I hate this life. The fear travelled in my veins but never made it to my facial muscles or skin. If I think about it for too long, the dread draws in on me, pulling the walls with it as it comes – When I think about it, all I want to do is make a run for it, but I know there isn't even a possibly of my death to escape this royal imitation.

My reflection in the golden crown isn't who I am – It is who this imitation has transformed me into. One moment my flesh was so pure, smooth and soft with the occasional freckle, now it was scarred with red. Somehow so extraordinary that I slowly started to forget what it had looked like without it in the first place. My salty tears only sting the wound, and there was no healing to mend to, for there was no blood to spurt out of the burn.

I wrap a shredded piece of the bedsheet around the cut in my palm as my soul swam amongst the fire burning inside my mind and within the smouldering embers of a time where there had once been logic. But now, that void is being slowly filled with a cold, howling storm of hatred, which refuses to ever let up.

I feel betrayed, even though I was the one lying from the start to him – But no, I wasn't just angry at Kylo Ren for what he had done to me and what he is going to do to the rest of Jorkhan, I am impeccably rapid at the girl with the same coloured hair as the two sunrises.

There was no hope of rescue for me but somehow, I found a way to light a fire inside and claw my own way out of death. A flame so magnificent that it blinded the darkness left lurking in my hopeless heart.

It takes a brave soul to get up from the ashes and get dressed in the rise of more flames, but as I perch the golden crown above my head, after spending hours staring at the burning scar upon my face... _I become that very fire._

"Guards!" I snap as I open the doors of my quarters and call out to the three StormTroopers at the end of the hall, "Load your guns and prepare the great hall for me."

"Yes, your Majesty." Their electric voices contort through their masks in unison, only briefly turning their heads at the fresh and oozing impurity across my face.

My heart ached as I sauntered to the windows along the halls of the palace and I looked out to the sky, tracing the path of the mountains that stretched across the orange canvas. I swallowed roughly at the distant memory of the orchards and turned back to the Stormtroopers slowly, the crown above my head, mimicking the gold of a _marvellous_ day.

The suns were rising behind me, beginning their slow journey towards the horizon and as they began to cast away the shadows of a horrific clash between night and day, I watched the way my own silhouette stood tall upon the floors of the Kingdom, my crown pointed and upon my head with _purpose._

The morning of the wedding rose with an underlying darkness on this day and it awoke the very void of my heart which all this time, was being tormented by constant stress, abuse and fabricated security. The void was hungry for revenge and utterly hurt at what everyone had done to me.

I flicked my eyes back to the guards and relished in the wallowing gape of darkness, which Kylo Ren, the true monster of the Universe, had sunk into me.

"And then..." I smile to the armoured men, cocking a brow just the same as Kylo Ren did before vandalising my face which had brought me to this Kingdom in the first place.

_" – Bring me Ruby Mayse."_


	31. Vengeance

My heart had bruised into a deep black, darker than any midnight sky and as Anwar's eyes shine in my memory, only to then perish into a complete nothing, I understand that there is no hope for light, nor is there even a flicker of motive in every fibre of my raging system, to ever lust for anything other than vengeance for what my life had become by the hands of so many other's – So many touches upon my fate and yet, I never even got to add my own fingerprint into the path, in which my soul had died among the journey of cruelty.

"What are you going to do to me?" The ginger girl kneeling before the throne spat as she hid behind the bindings of her silver shackles, "– Sentence me to hang upon the walls of the Kingdom? You can't do that, I basically gave you all of your power!"

I had waited for this very moment since the second her raging flame of hair was ready to battle the burning of my blood. I sat upon the throne with my arms resting on the gold and my face stinging with the touch of morning dew. Many servants had gasped upon the sight of the horrific gash across my face, which surprisingly didn't bleed but the smell was just as metallic as the taste that filled my mouth from clenching my teeth down on the insides of my cheeks, from trying so hard to restrain myself from throwing clenched fists in their faces, whilst those young girls in white aprons, begged to tend to the burnt flesh.

But, I refused to cover it with a bandage. I refused to calm the crying sting with a buttery ointment – For I wanted to see the reactions of the servants, StormTroopers and every single person who walked these halls as if there was a smell beneath their nose or as if they were still mounted to their high horse... But most importantly, I wanted to see the twitch in Ruby Mayse's demeanour and I relished in the way her shoulders stiffened when the guards threw her body to my feet.

I hate everyone here and I want them all to perish. I loath those who knew about my royal imitation and had a part in it, and Ruby Mayse was the opponent to my soul – She was the reason that I was brought into Kylo Ren's vile and evil embrace... And I wanted nothing but revenge, so I forced her to look me in the eyes, whilst she fought to not glance at the gash between them and bow to my crown and authority.

The crown of the Queen and the power that it gives, is only a mask that I wear as all I have ever known myself to be, shifts and twists brutally into someone else, someone who has been abused and beaten into this shape of a woman who's mind relapses and tortures itself, only to keep its vessel alive, for the girl from the slums is dead, _as dead as Anwar is_ – Leaving nothing but my vessel, which no longer kneels before the threats of another or retreats as they make their power play, but rather instead, I make my own counteracts and I smirk as I pick up my Queen piece and laugh sardonically as I knock the rest of the pieces off the entire chest-board.

All this time I had moved in silence and hidden behind the much smaller roles, but now after Kylo Ren has revealed the truth and uncovered the darkness of imitations, I have nothing left to lose – No future, no glimmer of an escape. There are many reasons to give up, after-all, Kylo had said so himself that so long as everyone thinks that I am the Queen, I will be the one to hand him the crown and the whole of Jorkhan, as if it were a chest-board for him to destroy... And although, I had lost everything, I had gained nothing to lose and the emptiness only craves revenge – So instead of making moves in silence, I know that it is now time to stand in power and say, _checkmate._

I know my eyes shine with something that they have never gleamed with before as I tilt my head to the side and pout lightly with a mocking chime as I watch the way Ruby's wrists twist in her restraints.

I can only assume that this was how pathetic I must have looked that day I knelt before her in the green fields, holding my palms open and awaiting the drop of a meaningless gold-coin, which never came.

That day my fear was running wild and my thoughts were spinning, but this time, my mind is clear. There is no sign of the plague of fear, but rather a numbing sensation as I sigh the very words that Ruby had answered my endless questions with, on that very day...

"With patience in time, comes answers," I smile but the skin around my eyes doesn't crinkle in the way that it would before I was stolen from the orchards, forced to wear a crown, and sleep beside a merciless man, who was lying to me, just as much as I was to him, "I believe that is something that you often told me?" I mock the weak and vulnerable, Ruby Mayse.

Upon my taunts, Ruby Mayse scoffs and spits upon the bottom hemming of my long and expensive dress, to which the brand new guards who were appointed to my side, _after Kylo Ren had presumably killed the other two, who were also affiliated with The Resistance,_ step forward from behind her and tilt their masks with question as they cock their blasters in the direction of the back of her head – And as much as I want to watch her brain splatter upon my dress instead of her watery spit, I shake my head and hold up my hand to ease them away as Ruby's shouts echo throughout the great hall.

"You're weak!" She screamed, to which, I swear that it even makes the tapestries that had been hung in the hall and all around the Kingdom for the wedding today, seem to waver at her sounds. Ruby shakes her head as her thin lips twist into a demeaning scowl, "It wouldn't surprise me if you threw yourself off the balcony before the wedding instead of facing the wrath of The First Order's intentions." She said.

Her words portray a marvellous image in my own mind, which is exactly what she wanted – I can easily see it. The guests of the wedding, waiting on the field below my balcony, which overlooks the white ceremony. I can feel the gust of gentle, hot wind flow through my hair and veil, which also sways my wedding dress to the side as the emotions cause havoc in my beating chest, before ultimately, I suck a sharp breath in and make the cowardly jump.

My heart was frayed like the end of an old rope and in this building rage, I construct elaborate rationalisations for why everything would turn out alright, that maybe destiny will be able to find a way to save Jorkhan, but the nagging voice in the back of my mind spoke of nothing but doom ahead.

Death is a perfect way to escape _my_ fate, whether that be a dull and treacherous future by Kylo Ren's ruthless side, or simply just sooner than the eventual happening of him killing me with the rest of Jorkhan – I grin and bite back a brittle chuckle – _Maybe, I should throw myself off the balcony._

"That does sound like a good idea," I raise my eyebrows to Ruby by my feet, "You do really _always_ come up with the best ways to fool the crown and The Order!" I chime, giving into the claw of laughter and letting it overstep her shouts.

The action causes a new wave of nauseating pain to strike the wound upon my face, but I don't wince, nor do I lift my hand to apply a soft pressure, for the pain in my heart is more devastating, and yet there is no cradling for it as it chokes on the lullabies of a traitorous endeavour to come.

Fires of fury and hatred were smouldering in my small narrowed eyes as I weighed various and creative means available to me for exacting revenge. Ruby kneels in-front of the throne, with her dress twisted and spread upon the carpeting that leads to the main doors at the end of the hall. Her silver cuffs are a clashing to the gold pin upon her breast, the emblem of the Kingdom adorned to her stone-cold heart and all I can think about in this sudden moment, is plucking it from the material and stabbing the sharp end into the icey-chill of her blue eyes.

The slamming of the chamber, golden doors interrupted my musings though – All too quick and all too soon. I lifted my head as her's twisted too, and we both watched as a couple more StormTroopers entered the hall, their armour clinking and their voices vibrating the tension of the room, as they came to remind me that I only had so long before I must begin getting ready for the ceremony.

" – It is upon Kylo Ren's suggestion that you chose the traitor's punishment soon." One finishes the other's words, sending a heated wave of hatred to prickle upon my skin as my fists clench on the arm-rests of the throne.

Ruby chortles with wide eyes, "Traitor?!" She almost laughs, but nobody even payed her attention – Not even I, for I was too focussed on the underlining of the order, the tiny fragment of sneer from Kylo Ren, who all along, was playing every single one of us as if we were puppets on strings, only we didn't know that we were attached to his wicked actions, for he was playing a better game of imitation that I could have ever.

Ruby turns her face back to me and furrows her brows, but there's still an uneasy smile amongst the litter of freckles upon her pale face, "There's no need for punishment. I haven't done anything wrong, nor am I the _true_ villain." She nodded, referencing to The First Order, right in front of members of their army, but so long as the minutes draw _before_ the wedding, these type of guards still bow to the crown of Jorkhan, after being given by The Order, before the union was decided.

She was partially correct – The First Order are the real and most dangerous enemy of them all, but she was _my_ enemy. It was as if I was watching everything unfold in my own head, in slow motion. In a brief and suspended second, time ceased to hold its certain sway given by the warmth of a sunny day, as my malicious intentions cause a thunderous discharge upon my morality, killing the rest of it violently but I only gain momentum in the shots.

With a wicked smirk spreading across my face, I flicked my wrist, and waved the StormTroopers all closer and in unison, they seemed to circle around, my traitor – The ginger woman, who had ruined every aspect of my life, tried to kill me and eventually, was the one who was the reason that Anwar was now, _so suddenly,_ torn from me.

If I were even remotely feeling sentimental at this moment, I might have ceased back from just the terrified etching that was smacked across Ruby's face as she bowed frozen, whilst the StormTroopers awaited my order. She took in every detail that she could in the hall as a layer of tears _finally_ sprung above the blue, till she was face to face with me, _the Queen of Jorkhan._

I breathe in a big breath of air, the summery scent of a bright day even lacing in the smothering atmosphere of a dying planet, before sighing it loudly out and cocking a brow to the trembling girl before letting my own features fall into the face of a cruel leader, "Your punishment for being affiliated with The Resistance and conceiving plans to overthrow The First Order is –" I begin, my voice filled with nothing but balance and certainty, but Ruby Mayse cuts me off with her high-pitched tone.

"You think I care for a death sentence?" She wallowed over the shaking of her own voice, a lump clearly forming in her throat as her hands wrung around the shackles, "Death is sparing me from a world ruled by The Order, a world ruled by _scum!"_

All the times that she had called me scum, or even remotely looked down at the ever-present marker between who I was, and who she is, creep back to me. I glance to my hands momentarily, noticing the way the nature's fruit doesn't stain my palms and dirt isn't embedded beneath my nails. She absolutely loathed me from the moment that we met, for I was a dirty girl from the slums, who found more happiness with an empty stomach than an overfilled one, and she born with sovereignty and enough riches to share, but she never would... Because she's just like the rest of the rich in Jorkhan, entitled and utterly, selfish.

I tilt my head to the other-side and smile, ignoring the uncomfortable tug and sharp sting from the aftermath of a duel with Kylo Ren and his burning lightsaber. I smile, and this time, it's utterly genuine, "Then, that wouldn't be much of a punishment, would it?" I ask her rhetorically, and almost laugh at the sudden way the corners of her lips twitch downwards.

I glance to the StormTroopers only once, refusing to flinch at my new reflection in the panes of their masks and listen to the distant shouts from the people outside, who run around the palace, trying to ensure that the wedding between the Queen and Kylo Ren, will be perfect as the guests begin to arrive early and the people curl round the golden gates, whilst on the other-side, the slums are burning down in protest.

I flick my eyes back to Ruby's own of wide blue and mine are only narrowed in ever-perpetual doom as I finally give the final order, "Your punishment for your crimes against the crown of Jorkhan is a life forever spent..." I utter, leaving suspense and running my tongue along the bite marks in my cheeks before smirking around my next words, "– Working in the orchards with all of those other, _filthy_ scum-people who live in poverty."

When the cruelest punishment for such an entitled woman, leaves my lips, I see all the left over dwindle of hope in Ruby, fall onto the floor and metaphorical birds peck on the remains of her stone-heart that spilled beside it. I watched the way her body reacted to the news, as if the Universe had crumpled in one sentence, she's utterly silent for one second but in the next, she screams in agony, her face scrunching up and fading as she limped back to the floor, her hands interlocking and begging for forgiveness.

"No!" She shook her head as the tears began to spill down her pale cheeks, only adding further enjoyment at the sight of her misery. "Please –"'

I raised my hand once again, attempting to push all of her useless pleads back into her mouth, but she wouldn't stop sobbing, and that was only music to my ears.

I blinked with boredom down to her, "– No longer will you live a life of authority, but you will kneel in the dirt to those with power and actually work an immense amount of hard labour to only get a humbling crumb, _not served on a golden plate,_ but scraped beneath your nails." I say, to which she only understands the certain remarks that are laced to my sentences, "I hope that your punishment will enlighten you, in return for your crimes."

"You can't do this!" She sobbed, attempting to reach for my ankles but she screeches as a StormTrooper pulls her by the shoulder, back into her place, "You can't–"

I only continue, _for I can do this._

"I hope you truely, learn how the other life of _my_ people in Jorkhan, live – For you have exiled yourself away from the Kingdom with your own gloat and craving for more. This was your own doing, Ruby Mayse, and you have deserved this punishment since the first time I had met you." I say, never stuttering or choking on my own words like I often would around her, as she made all the threats and twisted my future.

Ruby sobs harder. With no mercy or kindness, a single and final sentence would burn her hollow soul into a being of nothingness, just like mine had. Within those eyes, I only saw the figure of a misanthrope who hated all and every kind of society and features of a _lesser-human,_ unless it proved worthy in a certain power or wealth, which she could wield to be her own violent weapon.

_There is a fire within me_ – One much more alive than it had ever burnt with prosperity before. The flame has no weakness, no pity, no mind, and it now, suddenly, causes wrath to consume whatever it pleases. Its only criteria is to take from her, what I had lost and reduce her life to ash or into something so molten and foul, that it leaves her just as empty as I had become.

She was always brutal and savage, and now, I suppose I am nothing but those two things too – It could be considered a change of the heart, but I no longer feel the warmth of a beat inside my chest, only the ice burn of the place in which it had died, but the flames of vengeance burn hot and violent, with no care what will be left in dust.

So, when I stare into the tears flowing from her eyes, I only smirk for it has no power to even sombre this match I hold. I recall how Ruby torched my insides and forced me to wear the burdens that this heavy crown brought. If it wasn't for her, I would have never met Kylo Ren and foolishly given him my heart, only for him to stomp upon it, scar me for the rest of my life and then promise to kill my home.

Her pleads are endless, but they fall on deaf ears, "No, no!"

Ruby Mayse had poured the gasoline, but I was the one to throw the flickering spark to the drops on the ground and as she cries and screams, I only promise to myself that I will be the one to watch the Kingdom that she tried to save all along, burn to the _damned_ ground.

"Guards." I motion the two who had most recently arrived, barking to them another order, "Take her to the orchards – _Her new home."_

I chuckle low and shift comfortably in my seat whilst the crown above my head shines with the reflection of the two sun's rays, which peek through the windows as I watch her get dragged down the hall by her thrashing arms as her feet kick around – She looks desperate and weak. A true sight to behold and I can only hope that she keeps this act up all throughout the Kingdom, so her peers can see the way she acts, the exact way that they expect all the scum people, that they loath so dearly, to act.

And at that very moment, when the doors slam behind her and her wallowing scream's are only the faint echo of a memory, I am reminded of the same sight that I had only seen once before, only that girl's shoes were kicking through mud instead of the rumpling of a crimson carpet.

"Is there anything else? My Queen." One of the first two StormTroopers from earlier today, ask me, their voice even through the muffling of the mask, sounding apprehensive to speak to me, who still has such a frightening smirk upon the wreck of my burnt face.

I snap my eyes to him, leaving the memory of my mind, but holding onto one fragment, "Actually – Yes," I say, my voice much softer now but still... _Different._

It doesn't matter if I hung Ruby Mayse along the walls of the Kingdom, as she had threatened to do to Anwar if I didn't keep up with my imitation, or spared her life like I had somewhat done so now – Jorkhan was as good as gone anyway.

It is only a matter of time before we are all dead by the hands of the true villain, as she had called The First Order – But, I have decided that I wouldn't be the one to watch the grounds that I was born upon, perish. Potency was at my fingertips, only – I would rather be dead than watch my nails burn black with the dust of abolished cities, the nails that belong to the hands that would soon wear the ring that ties me forevermore to the vicious and barbaric, Kylo Ren.

I stand abruptly from _my_ throne, but make no effort to move as I curl my fingers into my palms, seemingly holding onto one habit out of everything else I had lost, " – Bring me the girl from the dungeons that you picked up from the orchards a week ago." I order from the StormTroopers, who nod at my request, "I must punish her for her crimes, _too."_


	32. Empire Of War

Jorkhan had been kissed by the Gods today, but only with a lustful poison of death upon their moral lips. 

The two sunshines reminded me of the many days spent basking beneath them, as my trembling, blistered fingers plucked berries from stems, though not for my rumbling stomach to eat, but rather for the citizens far richer than I, to place on their golden or silver plates.

The rays piercing through the thin white clouds, have a warmth that is coated in brilliance for the infinite hues of green which follow the mountains beyond the palace balcony, and to the kingdom gates which barricade the richer from the rich, and then so on until the grass dies out and there is nothing but dirt for the poor to defend their honours amongst. 

My face had been cleaned, but there is still a sharp sting buried in the deep cut and oozing out of my black heart. The maids offered a veil, but I refused to allow them to pin it to the locks of my hair – Or help me get into the white dress, which extravagantly flourishes like a waterfall of silk and lace, off the shape of a headless mannequin. 

The minutes are counting down to the wedding ceremony, the very event that I had been stolen out of the dirt for – To marry Kylo Ren, and unite Jorkhan with The First Order. I stand on the balcony, still wearing the dress that I had thrown on carelessly before I sentenced Ruby Mayse to the place I once wished so deeply to return to... But without Anwar, I have no home to long for.

The perfect weather mocks me. The cheery people below, taunt me with their perfect smiles and excited chatters as they crowd around the traditional decorations upon the green grass, which now has a long stripe of red, leading to the alter. They can't see me from up here, but I can already picture the way their faces will twist as they watch me lead myself to Kylo Ren's arms, with a monstrous gash upon my face, which matches his own perfectly.

It will only be the first symbol of violence to come, for Jorkhan is doomed the very moment the ring will slip onto my finger... But now, I have no escape, no way to leave before the wedding, which only means that I am to die with the rest of them. 

To me, the orange hue in the sky was the colour of blood, and I wanted nothing more than to embed my fingernails into the colour and then scratch the dawning of death to come out of the heavens. Leaning over the balcony and watching the guests all arrive and the thousands of people flood around the locked gates, I witnessed a vision of fire and extinction. 

Those people didn't even know that they were about to watch their own funerals be summoned in the event of a royal wedding... But once The First Order become their new rulers, it will only be a matter of time before they realise how the Kingdom had betrayed all of Jorkhan. 

The chants outside had begun, to which I flinched at and closed my eyes. A weakened tear slips into the wound upon my cheek, and all my senses flooded immediately to the pain. I could smell the concoction of salt and burnt flesh. I could taste the metallic blood from the bite marks upon my tongue. But all I could hear... Was my own mind's interpretation of the enthralled cheers from below and beyond.

Sobbing and screams boasted over crazed laughter. I faintly could hear bombs dropping, and the soil being torn right from the surface. I listened to the sound of a lightsaber igniting, and striking every opponent in its way, until there was nobody left to defend their home. 

"I assumed you would have been dressed by now..."

The sounds in my mind halts immediately like a silenced choke, and my senses gravitate only to that rough, familiar voice which comes from behind me. I open my eyes slowly, and the darkness of my own imagination, morphs like a broken kaleidoscope into a brighter, but still ignorant, world.

My body stiffens, and all at once, the shine in the sky seems to darken to my own eyes, as if the voice of the guest had brought along a cloud, or was haunted by dark and dangerous shadows.

My heart sunk down to the gut-wrenching twist in my abdomen, and my mouth immediately scowls. I turn around sharply and narrow my eyes upon the figure who stood beneath the peaked entry to the balcony, which met the bedroom that we had shared for several weeks – Where we slept and intertwined upon a bed of lies. 

I swallow down the heated rise of hatred, which boiled in every twinged nerve of my blood and swirled amongst the knot of my heart.

"Ren." I spat, to which he raised his eyebrows at the way I hadn't uttered his first name that I once screamed as he brought me endless waves of reverie. 

Kylo Ren chuckled, shaking his head and moving closer into the light of the sky. My devotion would have once swooned at the way his rosy lips rose into a thin, menacing smirk – But my loathing towards him, only gained momentum and throbbed in the curling of my fists.

The click of boots rang through the deadly silence that had befallen to my own ears, despite the fact that there was still commotion coming from below the balcony. 

I tilted my head to him, "Have you come to torture me further before the ceremony?" I asked, rolling my eyes and scoffing with disinterest. 

After I had practically opened my own grave with my sly words, I made sure to move my hands to the balcony behind me, and grip tightly onto the marble, just in case he was thinking of throwing me off the edge – Which didn't seem like a bad idea, as we met eyes. 

Kylo Ren walked with the careful precision of a chess piece sliding from space to space, skimming across the checkered squares and towards the direction of its most wanted enemy.

He stopped only when he was right in front of me, looming above my head – But I made sure to keep my face casual, with no hint of apprehension other than the genuine twist of disgust, as I gazed to the matching cut upon his face. 

Kylo Ren smiled, "No – No." He said, shaking his head and then pointing to the bedroom behind him, "I wouldn't _dare_ turn your perfect white dress, red."

With that same face of porcelain, only the gash was the imperfection to his glorious beauty. I hated that I could still find the attraction within me, but the immense hurt in my bones and conscience, was outweighing and diminishing the tiny flickering of a longing spark within my fragile, hopeless state. 

His demeanour was eerie and his posture seemed to be broadened by the showing of his true power, which he had proved violently to me, only this morning. Kylo Ren was a monster, just like all in the Universe had warned... He always had been. He was just playing me, as much as I tried to trick him. 

His voice was rough while entangled amongst the cheers, babbling and laughter from the growing ceremony. He also had a look of loathing in his dark eyes, and at that very moment, I couldn't imagine how either of us were supposed to act anything but defiant, as we meet each-other at the end of the aisle. 

My nails begin to dig into my palms, "But you would dare to destroy an entire planet, which will never be rightfully yours?" I sneered, gazing up at him and piercing the daggers of my detestation into his orbs of dark brown.

The muscle beneath Kylo's right eye, twitched – But he didn't even flinch if it caused a sharp striking of pain within the large cut across his white and once soft, cheek.

He sighed in annoyance, but there was still a slight smirk tugging on his lips, "It was never yours either. Have you forgotten your true place during this little imitation that you played? Did you accidentally lose your old-self in the dirt, while you played in the mountains of riches?" Kylo spat, chuckling at the sharp breath which hitches in my throat at the expense of his harsh words. 

I felt as haunted by his presence as a ghostly scheme of homicidal tendencies. He used me, and I used him, but he had always disguised his sinister intentions, so much better than I had tried to hide my past.

Plagued by nightmares, my body began to tremble at the mere memory of my home, where I starved, fought, slaved away, but still found happiness amongst the battle of survival – I had Anwar back then, and there's a senseless ache in my chest of guilt, for ever questioning his motives, above all others. 

The man before me, killed Anwar. He murdered him, and stole him away from me with no hint of mercy. Kylo Ren was a cruel, despicable excuse for a person, if he ever even was that – No, he's not even a person, nor a man... He's a weapon, and for such a vile savage, I give nothing for him to find in the narrowing of my eyes.

But he only took my refusal to show emotion, as his very own answer. He huffed a breath of laughter, "Ah – You did."

I grit my teeth together, "I did not!" 

_I lied._

I can feel the shadows of his own degeneracy, swallow down my throat and course through my veins. I had felt its smothering the moment he dug his claws into my mind, and tore through all my memories and thoughts. I lost myself the moment the crown had been placed upon my head, and I was lead through such dangerous and traitorous conflicts. 

Although, I had lived a life of struggles, I don't believe I was ever intended to be met with faces of evil as I had now – And along the way, I lost my innocence to the dark, and the evil which lurked around me. 

Kylo Ren cocked his head to the side and his tongue swiped across his bottom lip before he taunted me any further.

"You believe me to be lying?" He snarked, then rolling his eyes, "Well, you must be fooling yourself too."

I swore that the sounds below, became louder – But that must have been because of the rise in heat and agitation, within my body. Despite the fact that Kylo stands barely inches away from me, I feel alone and sick. I'm still mourning the loss of my best-friend, and struggling to keep myself standing during this eternity of fateful blows. 

I'm even awaiting Kylo's next strike, but he is patient and is yet to bestow more physical pain, leaving me to wonder if he had only come back to make sure that my soul was in shatters too, before the ceremony. 

"I have not forgotten who I was! My past was torn out of me and shredded right in front of this mask I have been forced to wear..." I snap, eyes wildly searching his to find out what his motives are now, "Yes, I may have changed from who I once was, but you never even knew _her_ to be able to tell me who _I_ am now..."

The agony I feel is more than dreadful. I feel utterly foolish that I had allowed myself to be so easily swayed by him, to the point where I even wondered if my heart had shaped itself into the design of his own. Had this been his plan along, to make me suffer with longings for him, only to then kill me with duplicitous barbarism? 

I fear what I become, and I am defensibly terrified that I was even trying to find what could fill the painful void in which he had torn into me. Nothing will be ever able to fix the ravaged mess that I have been moulded and tied into, and at times, it was my own doing too – For I had defied all warnings and red flags, and lost myself to Kylo Ren. 

I shook my head, and tried to fight against the shaking of my chin, "You never knew me, and you never _will_ know me."

My focus was scattered and so filled with nervous anticipation that my blood feels cold beneath my burning skin. Anxiety floods my system, but never once did Kylo's mood change from the mischievous manner that he gave.

Dark, raven hair that softly swayed in long strands which seemed soft to the touch around his strong and defined features of pure marble, I let my tired eyes drop from his face, all the way to his clasped hands, which were a little _too_ close to that dreadful lightsaber which was attached to his belt.

It's torture. My body doesn't even want my own hands, it only wants his. I am at a lost, imitations have to be the downfall of all, for it can trick those with their minds, but their hearts cannot determine what was real and what was fake. He never cared for me, but I once cared for him, I had even craved him in the very depths of my being. But now, all I want is to watch him lay dead.

_Perhaps, he thinking the very same thing about me..._

Kylo chuckled low again – His deep voice, bellowing across the golden skies, threatening even the lowest of thunder to battle his sick mind, "Hm – Then, perhaps I will have to spare you from death, in order to understand the _real_ you."

At his words, my chest caves in and my eyes stare distantly as I am lost in the maze of my own mind. My surroundings begin to spin, but he is the centre focus of this world-wide whirlpool. The corners of my gaze then turn red, and all at once, I just see blood and revenge. 

I move in slowly, my lips barely a breath away from his own. The saliva pools in my mouth, and although I want to spit it upon the wretched and torn flesh of his face, I merely strike him with my cruel words before moving back away and storming into the bedroom. 

"I'd rather die than live by your side and watch you burn down my home, and then a thousand other planets after Jorkhan." 

He laughs from behind me, but follows my direction.

"Well – Good luck with that, my Queen." 

I can hear his footsteps suddenly quicken, but I make no moves or twist my head around to watch what he is doing. I want to strike the mannequin which wears the white dress that I should already be bound in. The warmth of the sun had been sucked off my skin and so had the fire of my heart. 

There is nowhere to escape to now. I belong in that white dress, only to walk towards the man of total darkness. 

I feel as if I have been shunned away and put in a prison that I used to call my sanctuary. With wide eyes and dilated pupils, the walls begin to manifest in my own flood of panic, as they fancifully close in on me, making my bones tense and skin ache for release. I want to go home, but there is nothing but a life of death or torture to come for both me, and the rest of Jorkhan.

Suddenly, Kylo's hand wraps around my wrist and he doesn't bother to be gentle as he roughly turns me around. Gasping, I nearly thud right into his chest, knocking all the wind out of my lungs but I am quick to use my other hand to press against his toned muscles beneath his drapes of black, to which I flinch my fingers away abruptly afterwards, as if the beat of his heart had burnt me.

I jolted away and tried to pry my wrist out of his menacing grip, but his fingers only tightened around the fragile bone. Spluttering and almost choking on the rise of fright in my throat, and the bone-dry feeling in my mouth, which ached when I tried swallowing – My ribcage constricted into itself a little tighter as we stared defiantly, but silently to each-other.

Now, I was certain that he could read my mind, but I will never be able to understand what terrors are going on behind those dark eyes, which feel as if they have a vengeance of ten-thousand men, boring into my skull. The brown eyes that I had grown to love turned into a deep black, as heavy as the void in outer-space. 

The lips that thinned as he grit his teeth into straight lines, held the power to steal all the breath from my lungs and the light from the day, but right now, the rosy twist only showed me the anger in which I had caused. I felt sick with so much irritation, which clawed its damaging fingernails down the muscles of my body and whispered treacherous words of demise into my ear.

Kylo Ren's eyes flickered to the burnt gash across my face, and to my utter terror, he only smiled again. 

"You know, it is a real shame what happened between us. You were so beautiful... And so was this worthless planet," He drawled slow, finally letting go of my wrist but in the heavy line of his stare, I didn't dare to move. 

Kylo Ren then moved like a predator would with its prey, circling me and listening to my heart rate increase from my quickened breath. A twisted and utterly, cocky smirk coloured his deadly pale face. He knew just what he was doing to me, he was stripping me from any sense of power in which I previously assumed I held. 

Smoothly, he then placed a hand on my shoulder as he stood tall behind me. My eyes were wide but flicked to the corners to stare unwillingly at the long fingers which curled around my collarbone. 

I stood trembling, despite my internal battle to ground myself as my mind is unable to process what was about to happen, or what he was intending to do. 

A low and inhuman growl then rumbled in his chest, and just as I felt his breath fan the crook of my neck, was when the door to the bedroom abruptly opened. 

Kylo Ren kept his hand upon my shoulder, but moved his head back – Although, he didn't glance at who had entered before he breathed their name with annoyance.

"Hux."

The General with the stern eyes and a fiery flame of orange hair, which reminded me so much of Ruby's, stood tall and unfazed in the doorway. Turning my face only slightly, I can see him in my peripherals – He has the face of a statue, with blue eyes adorning the pale flesh of sharp cheekbones which are just as cutting as his ruthlessness with just the glint of evil beyond his oceanic eyes as he looked over to me, and then back to Kylo Ren.

"Ren," He hummed with a nod. 

Kylo's hand slipped off my shoulder, but slithered across my shoulder-blades before he finally returned his gloved hand to the lightsaber upon his belt. 

"What is it?" He turned and asked the General. I was still yet to figure out if they hated each-other, or were just as merciless as one another.

General Hux nods his head to Kylo, his hands folding behind his back as the pins upon his suit, glimmer amongst the sunlight which still peaks through the sheer curtains.

"The Resistance are closing in on the gates," He says, a small, menacing grin upon his face, as his eyes then flick back to me.

_The Resistance?!_

I raise a brow, only to then furrow both of them together – Confusion is evident upon my face, as then Kylo leans back into me and runs his tongue across his teeth before huffing a breath of laugher. 

"Perfect." He says in my face, but to the General now behind him, "Just what we predicted."

My eyes closed in a grimace at the evil look he gave to me. I presumed my skin to become pale and clammy as I was in so much pain, physically and emotionally. All together, it had a raw quality and I began to dissociate in the midst of unfamiliar, dark and sinful, brown eyes.

"What?" I flinch my face away and ask, "What's happening!?"

He bites down on his smiling, bottom lip, but is yet to give me an answer. 

The misery washes over my body like harsh waves crashing onto me, The Resistance are closing in on the gates... Does that mean they are close? Why would The First Order want that?

My heart drops. They want them all to come close, most likely to put an end to all of them in one go, after the ceremony.

All at once, my innards felt like they were being replaced by a black hole and the nausea crept from my guts to my throat. Without a break in the pain, I cannot formulate a thought, I feel an emptiness in my heart, a shear nothingness that somehow smothers me and threatens to consume my soul entirely. 

I'm trying to move out of my place, but Kylo has my feet glued to the floor with just the terror he gave to me. His smile suddenly drops, and no longer is the wound across his cheek and forehead, the most frightening thing upon him.

"Did you really think that your little boyfriend was just planning on being the only one to betray The Order and the Kingdom today?" He sneered.

His sly question poured unexpected, gasoline onto the spark of fear in my guts. Grabbing a hold of my defiance and burying a knife, sinking it in with cold black eyes and a flick of the tongue. My face falls and even General Hux see the surprise flood my features like a deadly tsunami. 

"I–" My stutters begin, my power falling defenceless to the ground and joining the rubble of my heart that had shattered around my feet previously.

Kylo cuts me off, "No. There is a fire burning in the hearts of your scum people, and they want to burn this _fucking_ kingdom to the ground with them." He spat. 

Suddenly, all the walls are closing in on me and the lights become impossibly bright to my eyes and skin. I'm forming a slight sweat and there is an anger caving in at every corner of my system, which starved all the colour in my eyes. My soul was drowning in a carving that I had to force my features into a showing of indifference – But then, I realised something... _Hopeful._

_The riots! The rebellion! The Resistance!_ They're flooding to the gates, they want to wreck havoc now and tear the kingdom and Order to the ground! It all makes sense now, Anwar was right all along, he was always right! 

I gasp and move out of the way, practically sprinting back to the balcony and leaning over the edge to peer at the distant gates. The kingdom is a land of endless prosperity, but closer to the castle, was the town where all the rich civilians lived in brick houses upon cobblestone roads. 

Terminated beyond, was the mountains and rows of farm land, where majority of the poverty-stricken people lived in the dirt of their golden village – But if I squint, I can just make out the tiny dirt-storm ahead, and see the stamped of people charge through the golden gates, who all cause a rampage upon the cobblestone streets, and brawl with the wicked people that kept Jorkhan in tatters of unbalanced deserving. 

The guests within the kingdom, who awaited the ceremony were yet to realise what was happening far away, and they probably won't if The First Order are quick to put an end to them. The gates to the kingdom will always keep The Resistance away, after-all the castle was built to withstand opponents, and that's why the King's bloodline had lasted decades. 

The world was run by money, but there was far more people who didn't have any... And finally, they were sick of being bound by the dirt and forced to cultivate food in which they could never eat. 

StormTroopers were already flooding towards the riots, their metal armour reflecting the glory of the suns, as they cocked their guns to the sky and shot bullets into the heated flames. 

When Kylo Ren finally followed me outside, he leant casually against the side of the balcony barrier and hummed beneath his breath.

I turned to him, "Open the gates... Let them in." I shook my head and said with an urgency, "You don't care what happens to Jorkhan, so long as there's a blank slate in the end for you to embed your destruction into the rubbled battle-ground."

_The gates were the only thing keeping them out of the kingdom. I needed them in._

The urge to cry comes and it is chaotic and powerful, but I don't spill hot tears in front of him. 

I can still feel the keen sting of betrayal, the anguish of forming a bond so strong only to have it ripped from my still beating heart. Kylo's taste for destruction is invisible wound upon my hope, that will never be treated and will never heal in the meantime, leaving my infection only to get worse whilst I am supposed to only watch him kill all that I know.

_I am still me,_ but with a caution and a tinge of darkness which I never wanted. 

Kylo Ren only glances to The Resistance once, rolling his eyes and then turning back to me.

"You are most certainly right, but I think you're forgetting about the fact that The First Order still don't own Jorkhan, you _somehow_ do..." He sighed, running a gloved finger along the marble of the balcony.

He is a chaotic calm, somehow the stress he conveys doesn't just roll right off him, instead it sinks in and twists, bursting out in acts of violence. Kylo pretends as if he doesn't care about the Universe, whilst at the same time he seems to hold a grudge as if it came with handles. He was created with a purpose but somehow along the way he was twisted into a darkness.

Kylo Ren moves closer to me, and suddenly his hand rises to my cheek, just missing the painful gash, but to only prove his cruelty, he purposely brushes his leather thumb along it. I don't flinch, nor whimper. I won't let him know he is winning. 

He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and tilts his head to the side at me again, "I mean both The Supreme Leader, and I, still _theoretically_ need you... That's why we're going through with our union, isn't it?" 

The anger boils in my blood, and the steam poisons my tone.

"Fuck you, and your Supreme Leader!" I yell into his face.

Hux chuckles from the edge of the balcony. I hate them both, I hope the gates crash down and _my people_ trample their power into nothing but dust – I don't even care if I would endure the same fate as well, for the rebels would think that I am the real Princess... Because as long as there is a future to Jorkhan, I can willingly perish by the hands of anyone other than the monster in front of my eyes.

Kylo continues to rub his thumb along the burnt flesh of my cheek, and as he speaks again, he applies pressure – My knees almost buckle, but I stand tall.

"Ah, you've always been so opinionated and strong. I admire that brawn within you. It is the truest proving of worthy for your crown." He utters to my face, his breath smelling sweetly of the taste that I used to always crave.

"But, my Queen –" He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, like an animal would polish its teeth before devouring its defenceless kill, "There cannot be two kings or rulers in a Kingdom, for in the end, it will only become an empire of war..." He states, staring down at me ominously. 

But that isn't what frightens me the most – It is the tone of his oncoming wrath, which swirls around my mind without ever stopping. 

What he says next, is the taunting song of both mine, and the rest of Jorkhan's impending doom if I do not pick up my defences once again, say goodbye to my past-self by only weaponising my trauma, so I can try and save my _fucking_ world.

Dauntingly, Kylo Ren, The First Order's most dangerous and vicious apprentice, gives me the oath of his threatening plead to put an end to all that I would sacrifice myself for...

_"... And I have never lost a fight."_


	33. The Death Of Jorkhan

_"– The Supreme Leader, and I, still theoretically need you."_ Kylo Ren's previous words echo in my mind as I realise what this means for me, _now._

Jorkhan's survival sits ruthlessly in hands of fate, and I am hopeful that those hands are tragically, my own. 

The winds were starting to pick up speed, but they were hot and heavy as they crashed onto my face and laced through my hair. A flourishing of green grass lays below, and thousands of people are now trampling the fields, in order to get a close glimpse of the ceremony which will begin shortly.

Bravery is heavy in my heart. My soul is light with lifted conflict, which has collapsed and dissolved into the shadows of demise and a massacre to come. I hold tightly onto the balcony railing behind me as my bare feet tip-toe along the small slip of bricks which keep my feet from meeting thin air, and then ultimately the hard surface below. 

From here, nobody is yet to notice my body ready to crash down to the celebration, and without the pressure of wide eyes and shocked pleas, I only find it difficult to pluck enough courage to actually take the leap.

A cheer went up from the guests as the ring barer walked down the aisle, all clueless about the tragedy that will befall to them, in only a matter of seconds. My knees wobbled in the wind and I felt dizzy as I tried to blink back tears. 

It's a misfortune to my tribulations, that this is where I will finally give up my battles, in order to conceivably triumph the oncoming war. If there is no Princess, there's no marriage, meaning no tie between The First Order and Jorkhan. It's an undeserving fate bestowed upon me, for or I am not and never was, royal – But with no escape in my grasping, all I can rely upon is resorting to the first plan that created this colossal mess which became my life. 

_Kill the Princess._ Prince Dayvis and Ruby had tried to cruelly save Jorkhan, the moment they sacrificed the innocent bride-to-be, and although the late King was much eviler than them, by passing down the threatening death to come to me when he forced me to take the place of the Princess – It was always them who continued to eat upon the riches of brutality, in order to save _their_ people.

Perhaps, it was selfish of me to not die sooner... But I never wished to depart by the yearning of my opponents. This was my choice now, not the solution of my tormentors. I am doing this to protect the innocent, I am doing this because my people are the only other's who are rampaging upon the streets and trying to put a deadly stop to the union – But they will never win against the violent forces of the Order, so I must listen to the riot in my beating heart, and join their fight.

I stare into the cloud-studded summery sky, hardly adoring the deep blue even though it's all I can see. Taking in another shuddering breath, the tears are flowing in earnest now, not caring for the vulnerable shine they give to the wretched wound across my cheek.

I was tired, and I was slowly turning into a person whom I didn't even know. My emptiness equates to insanity. My heart and body is heavy with the guilt and burden of so many lives ripped away from the world. Anwar was already gone, and I wished it was me instead. 

It was all so sickening and devastating how many lives had been taken because of this kingdom, and The First Order, and yet, here I am breathing quick breaths and with a heart that still pounds against its cage. 

All my life, my one desire was to stay alive. But in my short amount of years, I had not even lived fully, and yet on this fateful, horrific day, I am no longer fearful of the idea of death, though when facing it head on, I do resist still against it. Time was no longer my casual acquaintance but instead the day had lead me steadily onwards to end's warm embrace.

_Just jump now, save them all_ – The thought drops into my head with barely a movement, but within seconds it's rooted itself firmly in my mind. There's no hope. No chance of anything changing, not now I know how cruel the Order truely is, and who Kylo Ren really was. I have no allies anymore, none other than the trust that I lay in The Resistance, and the people from the dirt who I had grown up with.

It's the logical conclusion of that particular line of thought. I had a previous plan before Kylo Ren had come to the balcony, but now I am not so sure if that particular idea would work anymore, so I am moving onwards to the more dangerous option. 

I wipe my eyes, my body swaying dangerously as I shakily let go of the railing with my right hand, and move it to my face. Though, my hand slaps back onto the barrier, as the sun peaks through a cloud and shines right into my gaze.

During my time in the kingdom, I had weathered through all of it, allowing myself to act to the world and ignore everything they had to throw at me during the hassle. 

I defied all odds and survived the constant threats, and even pushed my own fate of death to a King who had deserved nothing but the coffin he was nailed into. 

Jorkhan is no longer the place that I called home, it has been sinisterly twisted into a batted-ground. 

I was blinded by my own mask of imitation, but now, I see all the dying land in the distance – Where the orchards used to grow in extravagant colours, is now nothing but soot and mud. The golden city barricaded by the golden gates, is perishing in the riots that are only growing. StormTroopers are flooding in against the wrath, not yet using their blasters but easily outnumbering the weak and frail Resistance, which so far consists of all the strongest from the slums.

This place no longer resembles what Jorkhan once was, even if it was never a place that was beneficial and fair to all those who lived upon the beautiful land. Anwar would have hated seeing this, he would have scaled down these walls, instead of jumping like a _coward_ would, and fight with those rioting people. I know he and I's friendship was slowly dwindling towards the end, but I will never escape the brotherly love that he gave to me. He was more than my best-friend, but he was never given to me as a soulmate, for rather, he was my only family.

My hope is drawn to me as I wearily glance back down to the far drop below – No, this isn't cowardly, this is the bravest thing that I could ever do. I see beyond the defeat, beyond the moment of being cast down and beyond the memory of the hopeless voices, for my own soul reminds me that there is always a calling from the brightest stars above, telling me to look beyond the darkness and to the bright light of hope. There will be a safer place after death for me, hopefully Anwar is waiting for me to join him.

This is it. I took in a shaky breath, thinking about all that had happened in the past, and what I had cherished within the battle, only for the man that I thought I _loved_ , to tear it straight from me, as if he had never given it in the first place. 

The ground below seems to sink further into the core of the world, and the birds in the high trees seem to sing a dreadful song of goodbye. The first blaster from the riots is shot into the far-off crowd, and as the guests all turn their heads to the distant, almost subtle sound – I slowly let my fingers drag off the railing. 

"Ah – You're finally going to do it," A voice suddenly said from behind, causing me to shriek and instinctively grasp back onto the balcony rail, as a sharp feeling pierces my heart and falls into my stomach.

Just like Kylo Ren's earlier arrival, the stranger who walked out of the room and onto the balcony, was not a stranger... But rather one of my enemies. Though, unlike Kylo Ren's showing before, this time I am on the other-side of the railing. 

I could almost hear the smirk upon Prince Dayvis' face through the tone of his delighted voice, "I was wondering how long it would take before you finally stopped fighting for your life, and instead ended it yourself."

My heart was starting to accelerate in its beating speed, and my lungs felt like cement as I tried to breath in the hot air. Prince Dayvis approached the balcony railing, his beloved dagger loosely clinking in his belt that matched his and his royal garments, which was made delicately with embroidery, gold lacing and other elements which adorned the golden flare of his crown. 

I had assumed for a split second, that he was going to push me off the side himself, as he casually loitered to my right, leaning his elbows on the marble and watching the way my legs shake upon the thin slip of bricks.

He sucks a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of the brutal cut which Kylo Ren had _graciously_ given to me, "Gods, that doesn't look so good."

I ignored him.

My eyes were trained on the spectre of the ceremony beyond, my heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink as the irises expanded and nearly shoved away all the colour, for the celebration of pastels had been graced upon the palace grounds, in multitudes of silks and extravagant clothing. 

I didn't care for the tears that crept down my cheeks and dried in their tracks with the sun's touch. I open my mouth to speak to the Prince, fright caught in the middle of my throat – And not because he had witnessed me about to throw myself off the edge of the palace, but because I still hadn't found the strength to jump yet.

He wasn't stopping me. I only was. 

"I don't know what else there is to do. The First Order are going to demolish Jorkhan, and all the lives within it." I shake my head and let out in the tangling of a choked sob, "I can't marry Kylo Ren. I have to fight with _my_ people... I have to put a stop to the union, before the Order owns Jorkhan."

The sadness drained through me rather than skating over my skin. It travelled through every cell to reach the grass below the balcony. I was crying before the enemy, but I didn't care for what Prince Dayvis could do with my tears... For out of all the evil within this world, he wasn't the most terrorising. 

The Prince gave me a long and searching glance, examining the way the winds clip the tears off my cheeks and send them crashing down. Sighing loudly as if he was bored, he then crossed his arms across the railing and interlocked his gloved fingers. 

He was covered in dark emeralds, and upon his chest, was the pins of his royal crest – And only in this moment, did I realise that he was as alone as I was now. His Sister was murdered by his own hand, his Father was poisoned, and his closest companion had been exiled to a land in which he would never lay his polished boots upon. 

But despite that dark realisation, to my bewilderment, he chuckled low and shook his head to himself before speaking. 

"Hm, it's funny how in the end... You finally understand Ruby and I's motives. We didn't wish to kill you, but it needed to be done," He turned his head to me and smiled, but his eyebrows were tightly furrowed as if he was still thinking, "Perhaps, if she was here right now, she might even show a little smile at the twist of your ending... But I truely doubt it."

My hands were starting to become sweaty, and the more my grip loosened, the more my agitation rises. I bite hard on my tongue, and shake my head. 

Glancing back to him, I prepared for the eventual argument as we locked eyes – And for the first time since I had encountered the sly Prince, he didn't have a look in his mischievous gaze, which warned me of danger to come... In-fact, he just seemed as if he was enjoying the way I tried to hang onto the side of the balcony.

"You doubt that she would find humour in my death?" I snide, narrowing my eyes to the Prince, "That's preposterous, but why's that?"

He only countered my remark flatly, after sarcastically huffing and then moving his gaze to the aisle upon the distant grounds – And I noticed the way that his eyes slightly paused on the clutter of people in the far-off streets beyond, before he dragged them back over to the kingdom below.

Ignoring my tone that was sought to taunt him, he seemed coy with the toying of his mind tricks as he replied,

"So close, but still so far away from reality. Your vanity and naivety, will ultimately become the real death of you." He chimed, his lips curling upwards into a thin and unthreatening smirk, "Even if you throw yourself off that balcony, it will only keep the Order away for a short amount of time before Kylo Ren and his army, come back with vengeance and forcibly ravage this planet with war. The First Order don't ever lose a battle, they will only take this loss as fuel to their everlasting power and desire for the conquest of all."

A lump forms in my throat. Of course – Of course, there is still no way for Jorkhan to ensure a safety, we are just _doomed._ I hope that the Prince is wrong, and that his poetic words are anything but true. I have no other plan, I have no other escape. 

But then it dawns on me. Perhaps, that's exactly why he was so calm in this very moment? He knew that there was no way of making it out of The First Order's clutches, _alive,_ so he just accepted his future.

I'm awaiting the moment his smile fades into a scowl and he takes this advantage of our closeness to still shove me off the side, or stab that small dagger into my back, but he doesn't do either of those things as he slowly turns back to me... _And that's what scared me the most._

I try to swallow down the lump, but my mouth only dries and it feels as if I am choking on glass as I speak, "Then, what was ever the point of you murdering your sister, and the multiple times you tried to kill me?"

Prince Dayvis stared at me with a gloomy expression, which was an exceptional contrast to the bright and soulful sky, which performed ballet in his dark eyes, and swam in the locks of his hair.

"I suppose, she _did_ die for nothing... But you _had_ the potential to die for something." He tutted, his smirk falling and shoulders stiffening as he then tugs off his gloves and tucks them beneath his sleeves.

He shakes his head, " – If only you hadn't somehow brought Kylo Ren into this mess... There's no doubting that if you hadn't become so devoted to him, he wouldn't have found some sick pleasure out of playing this imitation game. He's finds a thrill out of watching this planet perish now, all because he knows how much you wish to keep it alive."

I scrunched my face at hearing the apprentice's name. My gut churns and my veins ache as if the very reminder of how all I adored about him, was a facade. 

A horrid sensation seeped torturously into my heart and mind. All along, Ruby, The Prince and Anwar, tried to warn me of who Kylo Ren was, but I was blinded by the magnifying awe of desire. 

My lips parted in sudden verity and when my features shifted into a dwindling expression of sneers and jabs, I gave the man beside me, a sad and tired laugh, "So – in the end, this is all my fault?"

Even uttering those words out loud, made my boldest strengths feel the need to flee in an instinctual demand for self-preservation. I blamed everyone for what this world had come to, but never did I consider the fact that during the time my heartstrings were deliriously tying around the shadowed apprentice, I was only taunting the violent destiny which was creeping in slowly.

When The Prince adverted his eyes away from mine, and declined listening to the distant firing of more blasters, I watched the way his gaze seemed to disorientate, as if he was falling into the trappings of his mind. 

Palms gripping tightly around the rail, my fingers were raw with blisters and my knuckles were cramped. I hadn't felt this sort of un-comfort since my times in the orchards, and as I winced slightly when my left hand nearly slipped – I let my eyes drop closed, forcing more salty water to singe the burnt wound.

Prince Dayvis inhaled a large breath of air, and sighed it slowly back out before speaking with a low and solemn voice, "It's nobody's fault but the ever-perpetual violent nature of the Universe." He said, causing my eyes to fly open at this sudden change of demeanour.

It was almost as if he wasn't himself, as if he had given up on being the villain, for he knew that it would only lead to him laying down in his grave, with a heavy heart filled with internalised detriment and prejudice.

His eyes scan mine, as if he is trying to search through the layer of tears and read my mind as easily as Kylo Ren could, "Everybody wants power and wealth. Wars are only bestowed on the counter of gain, nobody truely wishes to stain their hands with another man's blood, without getting something else out of it. Ambition and motivation is the poisoning of violence, but those who are rotting on that venom and using it for evil, are those who are the vehement to this cruel Universe."

All at once, the void of my heart added to the grey of my soul and in the fog of my conflict, the light was cast dim by the promised storm that comes with loss, as if the colours had been stolen away. This Universe was dangerous, and shockingly, I believed The Prince's credences. 

The monochrome suited the Universe, for in my heart, soul and mind, there were no pinks or greens, no blues or vivid yellows, there was only the violent slate of black. I honestly felt as if I had been played by The Prince this whole time too, was he actually as vile as I had assumed – Or was that just the imitation and mask that he portrayed, in order to kill me and keep his world safe?

My breathing quickens as I stare at him, totally unbalanced now on my tightrope of morals. The Prince only gazed back, his eyes dark but almost sad, as that dagger sat potent in his belt, but his long fingers never reached for it. 

Suddenly, he stands up straight as my eyes widen upon his words, and my lips only part further when he reaches out a hand to me. I flinch, my fingers losing their grip a little further but I do not take his showing of mutual grounds, for his extended hand only extends a balance of morality towards me, the scum girl from the slums, who he had tried to murder on multiple occasions.

But he did it all for Jorkhan, and so did Ruby – Maybe, they hadn't done it in the _kindest_ of ways, but war is brutal and does not spare acts of wickedness. He wanted me dead, all for the same reasons that I did, just in that fragile moment that I was about to jump off the side of the balcony. 

My chin trembled and I bit down hard on my bottom lip to try and stop the jittering hit of sudden coldness. Flicking my eyes to the sky as a phantom memory of pain merged with dull ache of sudden hurt, I swallowed down the anguish of loss, and craved a life away from such cruelty.

The Resistance is my only hope, they're Jorkhan's only hope – And even though they are very slowly growing in numbers, I have to try and keep a grip on the light before the darkness swallows up the rebellion, and I must lay all my dying faith into their hands. Surely, this isn't the end for all. Perhaps, The Resistance are one-by-one, collecting and gathering fighters from all across the Universe, in which The First Order are seeking to destroy? 

Perhaps, there is a chance for triumph against the wrath of The Order? 

I suck a sharp breath into my lungs, glancing between his hand and then to the rebellion in the heart of the city, "The Resistance aren't evil... They're fighting against the dark side," I utter to him, hoping that my voice wasn't lost in the subtle wind. 

I crane my face back to him, "Surely, you could _help_ me, _help_ them fight against the Order? We could open the gates, let the riots into the heart of the kingdom and watch them burn down the Order from the inside!"

Never had Prince Dayvis shown himself so interpretably, and prior to this treacherous day, I had never seen him so clearly. He had always maintained a certain distance so he would not be spotted as he plotted to kill me, and as a result all I ever knew of him was that he was a dark shape, a shadow, a shade moving silently through the wide halls and behind walls, where his pastel eyes, threaten me in the many portraits hung upon them.

Most days he rode with his spine straight and shoulders square, all that discipline evident even in the line of his neck. But today, he seemed weary, broken, devastated. 

His eyes narrow slightly, but he is yet to snap his hand away. It is the most vulnerable that I had ever seen him. The Prince of Jorkhan, is giving up his title to the Order without a fight... He is extending a helping hand to a girl from the slums.

I watch the way his Adam's apple bobs slightly as he swallows. He closes his eyes for a split second, and shakes his head only once.

"Opening the gates wouldn't work, there is no possible way that the Resistance have enough men and power to push through the city, let alone the army that surrounds the palace..." He scoffs, "Besides, what good does that do? It would only just fuel another group with unnecessary power, which would lead even The Resistance in the same violent direction as The Order. The light and the dark are all the same. _Your_ people are causing as much havoc as the enemy are..." 

That's not true. It can't be. There has to be a balance between everyone, surely not everyone craves glory, and not every soul is tainted with evil intentions?

He opens his gaze back to me and pushes his hand a little further, his fingertips barely grazing my wrist, "But in the end, it doesn't even matter. The end of Jorkhan is coming, no matter who wins this imitated war."

A flash of scrutiny flickered across my features and I raised an eyebrow to him to which he only tensed his jaw at. He knew how weak he looked right now, but I looked no better hanging off the side of the railing – We were both about to give up, we were preparing to be defeated by the Order. 

I uncurl my fingers slowly and cautiously take his hand, but don't let go of the railing with my other hand yet – Keeping me stable still on the edge of death, but The Prince doesn't let me fall as I whisper something so unguarded to him, who I once was one of my biggest foes – But like he said, there is no difference between two sides of a war. 

I looked back to The Prince. I had never seen a more lonely sight, other than the girl who often looked back to me in the mirror. The heir to the throne, became a solitary man, without his scheming and cunning companion, Ruby, who was also a very independent soul.

Here he stands in the end, much smaller and weaker than the title in which his pins and crown proves – He was left to die in the very palace he had hidden behind, his whole perfect life – But it didn't matter who he was anymore, for this temple will only become his coffin and the riches upon his hands and within his vaults, will never be able to buy his way out.

All that we had known about Jorkhan is slowly changing, and it is becoming a different planet. Even the moment that Kylo Ren arrived, the winds became cold, mud had replaced majority of the land, and half-frozen slosh was predicted to fall upon the mountains in only a matter of a few weeks. It's not even the people who are in dire grim, it is the world we live in too if someone doesn't put a stop to the Order, who are burying their weapons into the soil and watching the roots above the dirt, decay.

We have to fight, and although he believes that The First Order is bound to win this battle, what's the point of giving up now?

I blink a few times before my mouth parts slowly, "I don't want to give up. I won't just walk down that aisle, knowing what the man at the end of it is going to do to _our_ home..." I say. 

Suddenly, The Prince chuckles and a sad smile forms on his face. 

"No – No, I don't believe that was ever your intention," He retorted, then pulling on my hand a little to which I allow him to help me over the railing.

My legs wobble a bit as they meet the surface and the world begins to spin around me, as I flinch my hand out of his grip and then stare up at him with apprehension. 

He tilts his head to the bedroom conjoining to the entrance of the balcony, "After-all, that's why you have requested that poor lady inside."

The Prince's words strike chords deep within my soul. I feel as if he had metaphorically driven his dagger into my chest and twisted for his own sick pleasure. I know what is coming, as my old ideas and theories suddenly came back to me with his potent reminder – And as I slowly move my eyes to the room behind him, I can just make out the figure who sits almost lost and frail, upon the edge of the bed, through the peaked entrance and sheer curtains.

My heart was echoing in my own ears, louder than any wedding bell ever could. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my thoughts, but all I could picture was the small girl, who looked somewhat like me, bound into that glorious white dress which was before her.

It was another imitated diplomatic manoeuvre on my behalf, no question. 

The Prince moves in-front of my eye-line, forcing my eyes to blink and move away from the hole that my horrific gaze was almost burning through the sheer of the curtains that swayed between the balcony, and her. 

_The Prince brought her here, and that's why he had come to speak to me._

"She was one of them. Wasn't she?" He taunted, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth and rolling his eyes, "She was one of the girl's at the choosing, but Ruby didn't pick her... Ruby picked you, but now... _You've picked her."_

I shook my head, and cursed so low it was barely above a whisper. If I can't die, then I must still escape my fate. I felt as if my whole life was being dangled by puppet strings, and my destiny was just a joke before the applause of death. It wasn't fair... But there was a gutless and merciless part of me which still thought that I could do what had been done to me, to another girl – The girl from the orchards, the one who Ruby Mayse had thrown into the deepest depths of the dungeons.

I sniffed as hot tears threatened to spill over my cheeks, and only now did I finally admit to myself that I was terrified, and I felt as if this cruel Universe had betrayed me. My stomach sank into my feet. If I am too scared to die, then I only have one other option. 

I lifted my chin rebelliously, "I can't marry him," I muttered to the Prince, "I'll either end up dead or not, but I will _never_ walk down that aisle."

My bravery and morality, had all at once seemed to drop right back to the darkest parts of my soul – Just like they had in the moment I sinisterly exiled Ruby Mayse to the orchards. This twist of inner-conscience felt as if it had come from the same barbarity that Kylo Ren had abused me with, but with no other way out without death, I cannot seem to get the image of the slum-girl in the grand wedding dress, out of my mind.

If she signs the union instead of me, that should give me enough time to somehow flee the kingdom and warn the people of Jorkhan of what evil is to come, and perhaps, even find survivors from The Resistance – If some had managed to escape the riot in the city, before the StormTroopers shoot all their small numbers down.

Kylo Ren wouldn't say anything during the wedding when he notices that girl, clearly isn't me – After-all, he said that he doesn't care if he knows that I truely was never the Princess, all he needs is everyone else to believe the imitation before the union is confirmed, and then The First Order own Jorkhan.

I feel the fine hair on the back of my neck rise with horror as I realise what I have become, my worst enemy – I have resulted to forcing another in a life of imitation.

At that precise moment, Prince Dayvis couldn't help but fain a smile. 

"Hm, somehow you have made yourself two options without even realising..." He chimed, thinking the same thing as I was, "You either send her down that aisle and fight in the inevitable war that will result in the union, or you throw your pretty little self off that balcony, and ignorantly pray that The First Order don't come back and just tear this planet from the kingdom's grip."

I nod, "I have to fight, I can't just let Jorkhan die. The First Order have to be stopped, and so does the hierarchy of the kingdom."

He cocks a brow, "You wish to take down the crown too?"

The Prince surely takes this as a threat to his hierarchy, but I am uncertain as to if he really cares, for he doesn't believe that The Resistance have even the slightest of chances. 

I sigh, "Yes."

The Prince's voice lowered into a husky bass, "It seems that you have made your mind up then." He hummed, flicking his eyes from his hands and then back to me, "But just so you know, the rebellion will never make it to the kingdom, they do not have enough power or merit. Though, it doesn't matter, the second you send that poor girl down the aisle and she signs the union ignorantly in the name of the Princess, The First Order will most likely attack first."

The strength of his sentence hung in the air for a second, as I tried my best not to let my emotions show. The scar across my cheek was as wretched as my morality now, but there was no other way. I had to do this, no matter how evil it truely is.

On the balcony, only minutes away from the ceremony beginning, I curled my fingers into fists and nodded my head again, this time with my eyes closed, "Then, I guess I better start finding a way out of here," I said, opening my eyes again to meet the ever-present smirk upon the mischievous Prince's face. 

It still made no sense to my mind, that in the end, he and I would act so civil, despite our sinister intentions – Though, there will always be a line between us, in which I know he will fight for his kingdom, and I will always fight against it. I could feel a faint pressure as my conflict and hopes escalated to a resulting headache. 

He suddenly lays a hand upon my shoulder, _"See –_ The darkness of nature is now lacing your prosperity too. I don't blame you though, after all the cruelty that you endured, it was obvious that you would turn barbaric and vicious too."

I shrug his fingers off me, and glance just by his head as I speak again. The girl from the slums, was so much like me and as I peer at her, and watch the way she folds her hands between her lap and stares at the multiple bruises across her wrists, all I can remember is the way she knelt beside me on the lawn, the day of the choosing.

"I do not care what I have become. I only care for what I do to keep fighting for Jorkhan." I turn my eyes back to The Prince and say with what strength I have left.

"– If I send her down the aisle, I can use my vengeance for good. I can use my internalised darkness to bring both the Order and this kingdom to the grounds. Like you said, Jorkhan is as good as dead, but I wont let my people perish in vain."

The Prince huffed a small breath of laughter, "Your people." He muttered, referring to the citizens of the slums,"Hm – Strange how in the end, your people and mine, would die the same. Without the imbalance of wealth and opulence, but rather... With futility and spirit."

Behind the masked smile he wears on his face, there is sadness and dwelling. The darkened eyes shifted to the side and became slightly glazed as for the first time ever, he spoke about the people of Jorkhan as one... And not categorised with their differences in modernity and wealth.

A sharp feeling ricocheted through my chest at this change of heart, but out of everything that has happened today, The Prince's sudden shift in behaviour and morals, doesn't surprise me the most... It's my own. 

He bit his lip in attempts to hide any truths that he didn't think I needed to hear, and uttered only the hesitant words that he thought I did instead, "I do hope for your sake, and my own, that somehow our people fight till the darkness smothers the day of Jorkhan to everlasting doom."

I smile, ignoring the way it hurts both my trembling lips and the burnt wound across my face, "As do I, Prince Dayvis."

The royalty is sombre in the face of his once challenger, but I no longer flinch before his eyes, and no longer do his fingers reach for the dagger latched into his belt. It's strange what the threat of death will do to people. 

He shakes his head and chuckles, "If we were being honest, I am practically the King... But your great royal imitation has stolen that title from me, though I doubt I would ever deserve it."

Before I can even answer him, I notice something move behind his head and once again, my sight is captured by the young girl in the bedroom, who suddenly stands from her place and walks over to the white wedding dress. 

She hesitantly, but delicately runs a shaking, bony finger along the intricate lace patterns upon the hanging sleeves and there is an adoring glimmer in the colour of her eyes. Guilt washes over me suddenly, and as my mouth dries, Dayvis seems to understand the wrath of emotion upon my demeanour, and turns to watch the girl in which he had brought over – Upon my initial request from hours ago, to the guards. 

My surroundings seemed to miserably blur around her innocence, for she truely doesn't understand what is about to happen to her... Just as I am unsure what will become of me, the moment I send her down to that ceremony of white. 

There's a large chance that I don't even make it out of the palace alive, let alone through the dwindling and dying riots on the streets – But this is finally what I have to do for myself... For once, I have to protect me. 

The Resistance might all perish today, just by the shots of blasters before they manage to escape the growing army, who will most likely keep them away from the kingdom. 

Hopefully, I can make it at least to the slums again, and find what is left of the rebellion before the Order finally try to kill us all or recruit the strongest, before they inevitably turn Jorkhan into a weapon. 

The Prince turns back to me and sighs. Even his crown seems a little darker in its gleam beneath the suns today. 

"I will leave you now, to make your own choice and ending," He softly says before walking away, most likely to hide in his piles of gold before they no longer are his.

The slum girl, _who was once just like me,_ stands behind the headless mannequin, and imagines the way it would look on her unworthy body as she peers into the mirror which sat in-front of it.

I didn't wish to do this to her, but in the trappings of this smothering darkness, I must turn into my worst foe, and do the unimaginable. 

I tear my eyes away just as Prince Dayvis says only one last thing to me before he utters his first and final blessing of a farewell...

_"Beyond everything, that's at least what you deserve."_


	34. Damaged By Violence

The grass outside was filled now with people who all anticipated the chime of wedding bells, and the arrival of those betrothed. 

When consumptive crusade, ego and greed takes over from love and cherishing, a marriage ceremony is anything but minimal. The setting was elite and extravagant beyond necessary, and I figured all the beautiful decorations that lined the lawn, was to keep the wealthy and important guests, distracted from the grim face of the forced Princess turned Queen.

I can feel the cursing of darkness creep up inside me, and coil around the binding of my heart. Abuse is the weapon of the vulgar, and I had endured the worst of the wicked. It's a disturbed life lived suffering by the evil hands of another's, but as I have harboured beyond the alter of endurance, I find that I am both at a loss, and lost myself. 

I am serving upon my rarest of darkness and my soul only drifts off into the dangerous desires, for nobody wants to truely die, even if it did mean that their sacrifice could do more good than bad. 

When you have established that one alternative is good and the other is evil, there is no justification for the choice of a mixture – What I am doing now, cannot be forgiven, but nobody had ever apologised for the harm done to me in the first place. 

I sit in silence and watch the young girl, shudder as she stands from the bath and looks around the marble for a towel, in which was never there. 

Despite the danger of my schemes straying too far into the void of humanity, whilst an uneasy and anxious feeling idled in what was left of my morality, I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I watched her – It almost felt as if I was biting through the cut on my face, but I felt no pain as a numbing sensation settled upon my heavy bones and skipped across my skin. 

I find that I have to let in the knocking violence because when objecting to it appears to do good, the good is only temporary and only allows an evil to use that vulnerability for its own unjust benefits. 

The girl from the slums must think that I am as cruel as Ruby was to me on my first day here, as I barked at her to get in the bathtub that I had ran and gave her no answers to her endless questions... Though, there was something inside me that presumed she already had an idea of what was happening as the crowd only begins chanting, and the music begins to softly play. 

The ceremony starts in only twenty minutes, and yet here I sit, in a dress of blue while the dress of white only sits ruffled on the chair beside me. 

Her eyes blinked rapidly not only from the heated air, but how wonderfully built this bathroom was – The slum girl looked as adoring as I did, but now, this room is nothing special to me which makes my stomach sick upon the realisation.

She had never in her whole life ever seen so much gold in one place, and never had she bathed in water which wasn't icy cold, or filled with remnants of her own dirt. She was stark naked and standing frail. Her body was much thinner than my own, but I suppose if I hadn't been eating so well lately, we could almost look the same.

I could see the bulbed bones of her elbows and knees, and even her ribs were poking through her chest as if they grew deformed. My body stiffened at the sight and a sudden wave of guilt flooded onto my chest, and watered down my brain. I knew that what I was going to force her to do, would not give me back any mercy, but I truely feel as if it will give Jorkhan a better chance of survival. I don't see us winning the war, but at least I am doing my part in fighting against it in my own spiritless way. 

I motioned for her to follow me into the bedroom, as I stood from my place and collected the wedding dress in which I had sat beside me, but never uncurled my fingers from the satin and silk. 

I knew the slum girl, just as much as she knew me... But as of yet, we hadn't spoken about the past, nor the event in the orchards which lead her to be ruthlessly thrown into the dungeons. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at me with timid, wide eyes. Her skin was already riddled with goosebumps and she bounced a leg nervously as the heat rushed to her cheeks as I still looked at her, without a care for her bare frame.

I was glad that I had refused the help of maids to get ready, but in this sudden situation as I tried to find where to begin, I wished that I at least had someone to tell me what to do. 

My already racing heart started to pump blood rapidly down the length of my arms and legs, and when she met my gaze again, it was me who tore mine away and settled them on the rumpling of her clothes from the slums – The same uniform in which I would wear at the orchards. 

I sucked a large breath in and moved to the items in which I had previously retrieved from the bathroom and had placed on the pillows of the bed. As I curled around the bed, she only moved so she could make sure that I wasn't about to plunge a weapon into her back... She was cautious and on edge, _just like I was._

I pick up a silver handle, but it is not a knife as she had presumed when her wide orbs caught sight of its subtle glimmer. "Turn around," I muttered, my voice not sounding as if it belonged to me, "Let me brush your hair."

She visibly gulped, but turned back around anyway as I sat behind her back, which had the snaked curvature of her prominent spine poking through the skin. 

Her hair was locks of knots, some strands broken from too many days spent beneath the suns, and some small patches gone form the deep cuts which had scabbed over upon her scalp. Her shoulders stiffened when I first ran the hairbrush through her hair, avoiding the certain spots of red, and only then did I notice the multiple blotches of purple upon her skin too. 

My caged and broken heart dropped to the lower abdomen of my body and I could feel the fine hair on the back of my own neck rise with horror, "What happened to you?" I whispered behind her. 

The girl sucked a sharp breath into her breath, almost sounding as if she had gasped.

Almost too slowly, she then moved her hands to the blankets around her and her fingers curled into the fabric as if she was trying to embed her fingers into anything but her own naked skin, or the wound across my face. I removed the hairbrush from the ends of her hair, and only then did she start to move her body around to face me. 

She wore a cold gaze, her fingers still gently gliding over the soft fabric beneath her. She soon realised that her hand was caressing the rough pelt of an animal. Her head tilted to the side and her eyes blinked rapidly as she attempted to analyse how she came into close contact with something so opulent with this fur blanket which she was now sitting on – People of the slums never got thick blankets, unless it had collected a hefty weight of dust, and never did we see any animal furs unless you walked by a starving hound, who's even hungrier owner was about to savagely kill them for their family's final meal.

She then sighed and curled her fingers around her elbows instead, covering her exposed bust from my eyes as her legs curved to hide the rest. I knew she desperately wanted to pull the blanket around her frame, to silence the chattering of her jaw but she made no other movement as her eyes bored back to mine, and suddenly, twisted.

"What happened to me? What happened to you, huh?" She snapped, eyes now narrowed and lips pursed. 

My face remained impassive, unmoving with disbelief. 

"I'm sorry that you were sentenced for undeserving crimes... But I had as little of a choice as you did. We are both prisoners here." I shook my head and sighed, but the weight upon my shoulders never lifted with my words, for not even my soul believed them.

The girl flinched as if I had threatened her life already. I believed that she was much more attractive than I – And perhaps without the carving of silver beneath her eyes and the obvious lack of nutrition, she could be a beautiful Queen, despite the fact that I resemble the real one a little more. 

"As little of a choice?" She sneered, her nails now digging into the skin of her bony elbows, "How dare you say that you're a prisoner, when you obviously don't seem to have lived days in a cell!?" 

My face fell. 

She shook her head, "I knew you from the orchards, I remember you kneeling beside me on that day the StormTroopers all stole us girls... You went missing, and nobody ever spoke of that day because we were silenced by the gold they gave us..." 

She began to slow her words, as if she was deeply thinking, "But it seems you got the most riches out of all of us. Why?"

My lips part and dry immediately. Suddenly, all the walls of panic are closing in on me and even the honey light which peeked through the balcony has become impossibly bright to my eyes and skin. I'm forming a slight sweat beneath my dress and my hands tremble by my sides in closed fists.

I abruptly stand from my place on the bed and pick up the wedding dress in which I had carelessly placed to the side. The silk and sheer folds in waves around my trembling hands, and as I stare at the white with a foggy gaze, I can't help but notice the way my own frazzled nerves seem to burn it red. 

Casting a quick glance back to the young girl, within my split moment of standing in panic, her body quickly adapted to the warmth of the room as she slowly let the blanket wrap around her, giving her the decency of modesty.

She stares at me the same way in which she had at the orchards. Wide eyes, prominent cheeks and an expression that reminds me strangely of home. The girl shouldn't feel this comforting to me, especially given her circumstance and the future I am about to force her into, but my tense muscles naturally relaxed as I remember the way she had shoved a coin with the Resistance symbol on it, into my hand – Before ultimately being dragged away by StormTroopers.

I knit my eyebrows together and give her a saddened look, "I think you know why." I say, my shoulders falling limp and the hem of the dress dragging across the floor as I make my way back over to the bed, "– Because of The First Order and the kingdom." 

Her eyes lift to the crown upon my head as I begin to unbutton the intricate bindings on the corset of the dress, "The union?" She asks, clearly having knowledge about everything, given that she seemed to have ties with the rebellion, "But yo–"

The second last button on the corset, snaps completely off as my grip around it tightens, "The real Princess was murdered before The First Order arrived. She was betrothed to Kylo Ren, so in attempts to save Jorkhan from the Order's overthrowing... _Someone_ killed her." I spat low, more displeased with the past and having to explain it, rather than answering her. 

The young woman's mouth falls slowly, and as she tries to let my words sink into her mind, she cranes her head to the ceiling. The room's ceiling was high, and was as golden as everything else. All around her, the walls had a darker base of colour and but it was mostly covered with the many portraits of royals and imagery of battles scenes.

She whispers to me, but her gaze is yet to return, perhaps it is because the cut across my face scares her, "I have heard many of things in the passing weeks. Whispers about what The First Order are planning to do to Jorkhan, and even quieter mumbles about a rebellion in the slums called The Resistance... But never did I hear about the Princess' death..."

A heavy feeling sits on my chest, and I want nothing more than to take the crown off my head now and throw it out the balcony entrance, "That's because her regnant and ruling never _truely_ died." 

Suddenly, before I even knew what I was doing, I moved my hand to her face and gripped her chin between my fingers, forcing her to look back at me.

I bent over slightly so our eyes were at the same level, but as I held her, she dug her claws into my arms as if trying to establish some control over me, but there was no point.

I scoff in her face, "Did you ever wonder why all those girls in the choosing looked the same? We all had the same features, coloured hair and complexion... Did you ever think why that could be?"

The wedding dress bunches up in my other hand, and as I feel sheer tear through my nails, I let both her and the dress go. She glanced only once to the puddle of white, before turning back to me.

She shook her head slowly and furrowed her brows together prominently, "No." She said, with all honestly lacing the shake of her tone. 

As my breathing hastens, the intense rhythm of my heartbeat undergoes an irregular count, hammering quicker than a lightning bolt. I swallow down the voltage, and let it hinder in the churning of my stomach as a sheer layer of tears cloud over my eyes. 

"You never heard about the Princess' death, because it was never known. The late and evil King hid it from his people... And he picked through all the girls like you and I, to find the one who looks the most like her in order to keep the proposal between Jorkhan and The Order." I croaked, then coughing through the lump in my throat and trying to ease the sudden tension in the air as I bent over to pick the dress up, then passing it over to her, "Put this on."

She shied away, crawling up further onto some plush pillows which sat upon the bedhead of a dark green canopy. She looked so small and delicate, that my sinister bravery weakened, but for once, I knew that I had to protect myself first.

A roar of cheers could be heard from outside, and I could only assume that it meant Kylo Ren had made himself known – Even though his men were still violently firing their blasters far away in the city, where a frail rebellion is surely losing their battle. 

I turned my head to stare aimlessly at the moving curtains, acting as if Kylo Ren could almost see me in this moment, as my knees began to wobble and panic began to return to my coursing veins. I couldn't see the widespread of grass and the gathering upon it from here, but I could sill see the sky and I watched it with a anguished gaze as I noticed a tiny flick of black in the blue – Most likely, a First Order ship.

The slum girl ignored my previous order, but referred back to my vulnerable statement, "Y-You were that girl. The one that took the place of the Princess?"

I swallowed roughly and turned back, "Yes." I said, then moving to the head of the bed and forcing her to take my extended hand. I then pulled her to her feet and watched the way the blanket fell from her shaking body of bones.

I noticed the way her breathing began to hasten as I began to help her into the wedding dress – This time, no questions asked... _She must have an idea._

"So, you've been acting as her this whole time?" She muttered low as I moved behind her and began to tighten the corset around her ribs, causing her to lose some of her breath and cough out in splutters. 

This was almost too easy. I glared at the missing button on her back. She looked almost perfect, but like everything these days, there is always something strange or missing.

"Queen now," I chuckled in solemn, then raising a brow which she couldn't see, "I suppose you _did_ hear about the King's death?"

She huffed a breath, "Everyone did." She muttered, "We heard that he was poisoned at his own table... Most believe that it was someone inside the castle who did it, someone who is on _our_ side."

Memories of the banquet in which I had accidentally given the King a poisoned drink which was intended for me, smacks the colour out of my eyes. I didn't mean to do that, but it seemed it obviously had an effect beyond the palace walls. I would have dismissed my sudden pride as bizarre and irrational, but the memory of something so cruel, started to grow roots, deep roots, like the ones that twined beneath the soil of the now dead orchards, but these vines only smothered and choked the oxygen out of my brain – I'm a killer, even if I feel guilt or unnerving pride, either way – Once a killer, always a killer, right?

These fearful roots were so irrational in their anxiety, that I began to feel them cord up my skin and wrap around my neck tightly as it sucked the air out of my lungs.

I can no longer avoid the apprehension more than the beating of my own heart as it pounds with futility against my cage of bone and cartilage. I don't want to have to force her down that aisle, but if she is allowing me to just shove her into a white dress, undoubtedly she must be considering walking down it for me?

I could see the ruminations swirling behind her eyes in the very moment that Prince Dayvis left earlier and I walked into the room and requested she take a bath. Back then, she eyed the wedding dress as I took it off the mannequin, and she stares at it now with those same eyes as it sits slightly loose on her body.

I tilt my head to the side and curl back around to face her.

She looked beautiful, _tragically,_ beautiful – The same as one would look perched in their casket. The young girl had a pathetic look across her face, and the inner lining of her lips were starting to tinge red, as she had chewed the inside of her cheek too hard. 

"Our side?" I asked.

Suddenly, she rolls her eyes and all at once, the timid expression is replaced by a wretched scowl. "The Resistance." She snaps, as if it was obvious. The young girl, who was only moments ago, covered in dirt, gives me a stare which was manipulated into harsh daggers in which I now know she obviously wish were real, so she could possibly harm me with them.

She shakes her head quickly and tuts, her red lips looking as if they were polished with paint but it is only coloured with the tones of her sudden vexation, _"Listen –_ When the people of the streets found out about the King's murder, it only fuelled their ambition to change Jorkhan. The King was top priority, and now that he's down, it's only The First Order who _need_ to perish next."

She's so much like me. _It's painful._

I knew I suddenly had a pained look on on my face, as those cool eyes of her's became stormy under a furrowed brow, her mouth now locked tight, as she awaits for me to retort something or snide back. I know I cannot let her overpower me with her sudden harsh tone, or her jeering words – If at any point she assumes that she may be able to outsmart me, or have the upper hand, I know that my unrevealed hopes and plans might as well perish in the burning glare she radiates onto me now.

My stomach churns and the nausea rises into my throat but never releases into my dry mouth. My teeth then locked tight together. I had never been an intimidating person, nor threatening, but as she stands tall and defensive, I know that I have to do what I do best... _Imitate._

I think back to what The Prince had only told me moments ago. I never truely spoke my words out loud to him, but he had made assumptions of my next acts of betrayal to his own crown. Dayvis had shoulders that were low with the expectation of a loss, he wasn't preparing to fight for his honour anymore, instead he was only waiting patiently to see what becomes of his planet and kingdom. 

I narrow my eyes to the girl and tilt my head casually, "I hate to burst your optimism, but The Order will never be defeated." I reply, my voice laced with sudden anguish, "The Resistance do not have enough power, nor even remotely anything close to an army which could withstand a fight against the Order, and Kylo Ren."

Just as I hear another distant blaster going off, her dainty and blistered fingers wrap around the expanse of my wrist and tug me in the direction of the balcony. She nearly trips on the ends of the white dress she wore, and her tight grip was causing my skin to turn red.

"You are a damn fool." She said through her teeth, easily bringing me out onto the balcony and pointing to the distant city, where the blaster shots had previously come from, "Just take a look for yourself, what do you see?" She asked with a fire in her eyes, as a ring of fire burned around my left wrist.

I spare her with the act of turning my head to the town, but my eyes are actually focused on the ceremony below. Hundreds, if not – Thousands, of guests had flooded around the aisles of white, and those most important were seated in plush chairs around the royal carpet which lied from on end of the palace, all the way to Kylo Ren and his men who spoke at the alter. In the midst of all the pure white, which looked like snow and chalk upon the grounds, The First Order were already bleeding into all the virtue with their inky darkness of black cloaks, capes and souls.

But more black captures my eye from the far off corner of the palace behind the ceremony, where only now had I realised that there were hundreds of First Order ships anchored into the dirt. It looked like the fleet of an army, and they were setting up camp right where Anwar had told me he would wait for me with a ship to escape in – But that plan was scrapped the minute Kylo Ren had presumably read the blueprint of our escape from my mind, and perhaps he found some sick pleasure from moving his army right into that very spot. 

That same ship from before, still hovers in the sky very high above the kingdom, and I can only silently pray that the officer's inside it are not watching the slum girl and I upon this balcony, with a zoomed scope. 

The look in my eyes is a flashing beacon that shows I am afraid but all I do is stand completely frozen upon the balcony with the slum girl standing by my side, peeking at the burn across my face, possibly wondering or assuming what malicious weapon had struck me. The ceremony is only minutes away from beginning, and yet here I am still in my dress from earlier today with a girl from the slums in the veils in which I was supposed to be in. 

I tilt my head up to her, still trying to keep my crown shining with as much power as I imitate in the glimmer of my stone-cold gaze, "I see a small herd of weakened souls trying to dodge the bullets that are being plummeted upon them."

All at once, she looks taken aback but her expression only morphs into one of offence. Flinching her head back and raising her eyebrows in disbelief of my monotoned indifference. She cocks her head to the side and flicks out her tongue to the corner of her mouth, clicking it and scoffing. 

"Well, that small herd isn't as small as your ignorance believes it is." She chided, "The worst of their wrath is to only come. Do you really believe that the people of the slums are as stupid as the rich believe us to be? After all, you _were_ one of us, and so was your friend..."

Her statement seemed as if she had struck me of my high-horse, and watched me plummet into the mud below its hooves. My best-friend's uncharitable mentioning, brought a wave from an ocean of grief to engulf and overwhelm my senses and mind. The heartbroken pain is torturous and unjust, it unfolds upon me with a pensive darkness and the deep roots of the weeds beneath the salty water only come along to strangle my pulsating veins. 

I never experienced grief this grim before, all because I had never cared for anyone quite like I did with Anwar – Even though he was one of the main reasons that I had been taken by the King for this royal imitation, he was still my whole world... And he was killed by the very man who will only do it again, and again until this land is empty.

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek again and turn back to face the ceremony, where nobody can see us from this high up, nor notice the tears that weld in my eyes, "Anwar." I croak his name, then shaking my head to myself, "H-He's... Anwar's gone."

The slum girl's eyes widened but she narrowed them as soon as the suns began to burn a haze into her gaze, "Shame." She muttered as she too, looked beyond the balcony and to the party of white below – I wondered briefly if she was subconsciously thinking the same thing as I, that we were undeserving to be anywhere near something so extravagant for surely, the remaining soil beneath our nails will tarnish the white silks and ribbons. 

I sighed low to myself and she took my silence as a reason to speak again, "He did so much for the Resistance before the King's death, though I must admit I think it was because he was in search for you, all along." She muttered, before turning back to me, flicking her eyes all across the side of my face, in search for something unknown. 

Tearing my gaze back to the ship in the sky, I shake my head to the suns.

I almost have to nibble back a sad breath of laugher. Of course Anwar had been tied to The Resistance the moment they began to enlist secretly. He always wanted a way out of here, and he always loathed The Order... Perhaps, he knew that when he mentioned my likeness of the late Princess, to Ruby Mayse as he was tending to the kingdom's horses, he knew that _somehow,_ this would result in an uprising? It was a strange thought, but his mind always seemed to work in peculiar ways.

Again, the slum girl speaks and it leeches me right out of the trappings of my conflicted mind. When she speaks, she reminds me so much of myself. She's got a fight in her, a natural hatred to all things unfair and violent. She almost has that same pleading twinge of hope in her tone, as I did when I tried to convince the Prince to fight with the losing Resistance.

"I don't think you truely understand how many people across the Universe are finally standing up against the darkness." She said, her voice slow but still standoffish, "The Resistance in Jorkhan may seem small to you from your high-off balcony and behind your tall walls... But the people of the slums are finding strengths out of their weaknesses, we believe that there is hope somewhere and we will all die trying to find it."

Strengths out of their weakness, it almost sounded stupid until I realised that was how I had pulled enough bravery out of me to continue with my previous plans before hanging off the side of the balcony earlier – It was like a decaying flower with black petals in which I plucked to find ambition.

But still, I thought back to The Prince's words, he was certain that The Resistance and rebellion didn't have an ounce of power against the wrath of the real enemy, he thought Jorkhan was as good as dead, riots and all. 

I shook my head, "I want to fight as much as you do... But you're insisting that you almost think The Resistance could stand a chance against the Order and the kingdom?" I retort, knitting my brows together and watching the way the heat rose to her face – Most likely from the agitation which curls in her fists. 

She's a clashing of red and white, a sight to behold. The slum girl thought about what I had said for a while, and my sentence even seemed to be rolling on her tongue as she clenched her jaw around it. 

Then, the slum girl suddenly contorted into a threatening scowl, "And you're acting as if it _cannot_ be done, but surely you still had hope throughout this whole royal imitation?" 

Again, I mustn't let her think that she could ever stand a chance against me. If she thinks that she could overthrow me, there is no way that I will be able to get her down there. 

I scoff, my lips twisting tightly and as I take a step closer to her, the girl's eyes widen and peer into her own reflection which moulds in the gold flecks of my crown, down at her. We may look very similar, but I still had the advantage of height. 

"I definitely did," I grit through my teeth, suddenly feeling as if I was Kylo Ren as he would loom over a very timid and trembling, me. 

But to my surprise – This girl didn't cower away from my vexation, nor the smell of my burnt and ugly cut, like I would have, but instead, took a step closer – Proving her strength and confidence. 

"Really?" She chimed, raising her brows and tilting her head as her tone was nothing but sinisterly sarcastic, "Is that why you have put me in this wedding dress?"

Her eyes turn dark in the midday sunshine whilst her smile threatens to turn into a scowl and as the fright begins to tighten in my chest, I realise why she never protested to my requests, nor asked any questions as I laced the white upon her body. She was a rioting slum girl... She had nothing else to lose, and she wanted to know everything before I forced her down to that ceremony.

Once again, the feeling of the warm air became cold to my inviting, wounded skin. The proximity of our faces was only a few breaths away, and I knew that she could tell that mine had hitched and caught itself in the middle of my tightened chest. Inevitable death is still on my mind, but Jorkhan is doomed no matter what. She's a Resistance girl, but still, she had nothing against Kylo Ren who waits at the end of the alter now for... _Her._

Bells start to ring from the ceremony. It's a delightful tune, and one that a servant had told me it meant that I should start making my way to the courtyards, where I will then begin to walk my way down the long carpet of pastel. The crowd seems to know this too, and it causes them to shout a harmonious cheer. 

I ignore both the bells and the crowd, just like I had ignored the five separate gunshots from the city this whole time, _"I–"_

The slum girl cuts me off, speaking against the ringing bells which call for _her_ arrival, "You're a coward. Just like the rest of them." She spat, right in my _damn_ face, "I know that you're going to send me down that aisle to marry Kylo Ren, just so you can run back to safety before The Order demolish Jorkhan. You're only passing the imitation over to me, and saving further time to prepare your heart for a war, which you will undoubtedly hide from the _whole_ time."

I could feel my world burning and crashing down, all with one look in the icy capturing of her declaration. I am completely whiplashed with astonishment. The emotions thrash inside me violently, but layers the storm of my barbaric ambitions somehow, perfectly.

The old me wouldn't dare bestow such a treacherous act of a royal imitation to someone who was so much like the old, untarnished and innocent me – But I am no longer that same girl, I have been through more secrecy than one should ever live through, and everyday I woke wondering if that sunrise would be my last. 

A life of a royal imitation is cruel, just like The First Order, Kylo Ren, Ruby Mayse, Prince Dayvis, the late King and the kingdom of Jorkhan in its entirety – And for so many weeks I have been stuck right in the middle of such cruelty, to the point where I bled into the dark savagery too. 

But she doesn't know a _fucking_ thing about me, nobody did but _me._

Abruptly, a smile rose upon my lips and I made no effort to make space between us but only looked further down upon her, "Hide from the war?" I practically laugh, "Oh no – I think you have assumed me wrong..."

There's a peppering of sarcasm to my tone, and it only invites her mind to wonder what I could be truely hiding. She thought she had figured out every crook and notion of my plans, but the sudden fall of her face proves that she has realised there's a blank slate right in the middle of it all.

The darkness of my broken and shattered heart, sneaked up on me quietly and took me under its monstrous arms in an instant. Every memory of the war I have endured, played like a song in my head, repeating itself for what seemed like forever. I was lost mostly because I had lost a big part of me. I couldn't get that part back and I wanted it so bad as my life depended on it but it was all gone, vanished in thin air. I was no longer me anymore, I was what was left from the slaughtering of my enemies.

"Yes, I will admit that you were most definitely correct when you said that I have changed from the slum girl that I used to be. You see – Towards the end, I did lose a certain part of myself along the way. I guess I could say, I even lost my morality, and became one of my own greatest enemies... I thought that, perhaps, maybe the Princess did have to die, for that was the only thing keeping The First Order tied to Jorkhan." I begin, noticing the way she slightly starts to inch away from me, her back pressing into the barrier of the balcony as I continue to close in on her again. 

I can't let her overpower me. I won't let anyone overpower me, nor overthrow me anymore.

The bells are only singing louder, the sounds rolled through the palace and possibly all across the lands of Jorkhan as if it were a special sort of thunder. It was a calling of destruction to the rioting rebellion, and it was a death march to the degeneracy of The First Order. 

Her hands coiled around the railing, still keeping her standing strong to the wicked smirk upon my face. "So let me guess, your cowardliness kept you from killing yourself?" She scoffed, but there was a slight tremble in her tone, "Your sacrifice could have kept the Order away for just a little bit longer, before the Resistance finally had enough power to fight against their eventual return!"

She's shaking against the balcony, and I take peculiar pride out of bringing her fear. I no longer focus on the rage of her words, for I realise that they only bring more conflict to my soul. 

Just like mine did as I hung on the other-side of the rail, her hands were slipping as her palms were becoming sweaty and the adrenaline coursing through her system seemed to be threatening her ability to think logically, and utter a phrase without stuttering. 

My smile widens. _I won._

"There is a possibility that The Order would come back one day to only tear Jorkhan out of our grimy hands, instead of having the world just easily signed over to them... And yes, my death seems like the best escape from today's treachery of a future coming." I say, my eyes flicking to her beautiful dress and then back to her eyes before I add very slowly with my wide, sickened smile, "But, in all honesty, I couldn't bare to die in vain... And selfishly, I don't want to be the sacrificed."

I turn my eyes to the land behind her, and at my longing stare, she furrows her brows and turns to witness the unbelievable sight. 

The bells ring louder, echoing in my own mind as The First Order's ship in the air, hovers a little lower, but I seem to be the only one in the kingdom who noticed – As suddenly, all the attention turns over to the balcony in which we stand on, when I iniquitously take the crown off my head, and make sure that it gleams a reflection onto some of the faces below, enough to ensure a domino effect as one person turns and stares, and then so does everyone else.

Soon enough, everyone upon the palace grounds have turned their attention to the beautiful Queen standing on her balcony, wearing her beautiful dress of white as a crown is placed on her head. 

She tries to fight against the mass being put upon her skull, but once the gold crown adorns the white of her veil and the crowd gasps with adoration and love, the weight of the world is now also resting on her dainty shoulders. 

"How dare you..." She says through trembling lips, as from here nobody can see that I stand behind her, nor will they ever have the wits to realise that she is not the actual Princess of Jorkhan. 

She cranes her head back to me as my hands now rest on her upper-arms, "You are definitely no longer that girl I remember from the slums, you are just another enemy by the crown! You're simply just going to force me to do the exact same thing that you were suppose to do, by making me marry Kylo Ren! You're avoiding your own fate, and forcing me to live a royal imitation!"

The loud hum of The Order's ship in the sky, almost seems to be whirring to get the attention from below, back onto them – But it seems, nobody but I, has noticed the black vehicle hovering with a warning in the air. It is as if my greatest fear was true, that once the marriage is final, they really are going to waste no time blowing this planet to bits. 

Kylo Ren stood at the end of the aisle, and although he was nothing but a dot from here... I could almost sense the pulling of his black-heart from this far. I close my eyes only briefly as I turn back to the new _Queen,_ who trembles in the grasping of my fingers.

"And for that... Jorkhan owes you a paramount of gratitudes," I chime, contorting my lips back into a toothy, sinister smile – One that Kylo Ren would surely give to her, on her way down. 

Her lips are quivering and she shakes her head sadly to herself. Again, she reminds me so much of myself, but perhaps the version of me who was first brought to the palace and forced into this life.

"You've been damaged by violence, and you have become barbaric..." She utters to me, tears now falling down her face as she realises her fate is no longer with The Resistance, but with The First Order.

She was whole-heartedly right. I had been damaged by violence... _Damaged beyond repair._

I have lived a life of imitation, for far too long. I could continue to pretend to be the Queen or the Princess, but either way – I am going to die, and I'd rather perish and fail with a heart of veritable authenticity, than attempt to succeed in a darkened path of destruction by my forced forgery, for a life of imitation cannot be as worthy as a life lived on a course of pure and honest destiny. 

"Thank you for your sacrifice..." I move back behind the young girl, who I have ruthlessly passed my burdens onto. 

Swallowing the lump down from my throat, I look only once more at the people who all clap and shout with joy at her presence. 

I squeeze her shoulders purposely before uttering one last thing to her, "– My Queen."

And then, all at once...

_I push her off the balcony._


	35. Doom And Destiny

Her hand reaches out to me.

The cords of her soaring veins run from her extended fingertips all the way down her arm, and to her chest where her heart is pumping fast and awaiting the blow of her ever-perpetual, impending doom of a fall.

She's a pity of war. She was the sacrifice for the grand scheme. My hands are still caught in the air holding the empty shape of where I had curled my fingers around her shoulders and ultimately shoved her off the side of the balcony without a second thought.

Time seems to slow its gravitational motion, but there was a sudden rush to my brain as I wrap my hands around the railing and lean over to watch her on her way down. She looked completely frozen in time but the world was wavering around her wailing frame. Under a honey and blue sky, the gathering of rich brought vibrancy to the unknown funeral taking place. The colours of their fabrics were vibrant and unweathered by the wintry onslaughts in which Jorkhan had previously brought, but not even the returning suns could shine away the tint of death to the foundations of the Universe's conclusion.

My mind is a defensive difference to the overwhelming roar of surprise and fright as the crowds below watched with a horrific gaze, the way the Queen's body tumbled over the balcony and in a suspended expanse, slowly fell to their feet and celebration.

Thankfully, it seems that the suns were on my side of darkness as they moved from behind a cloud and made it a burning impossibility to be able to see that there was still my figure standing in her place... But what did I do to spare the spotlight of my sinister actions? Perhaps, the fires of the sky knew that what I had done, was to keep them burning.

Her crown whistles in the air, and her hair which I had previously brushed with a silver handle, becomes matted around the white veil, which perfectly matched her pure wedding dress that whipped and glided like waves in the free-fall wind.

There was no time for me to start contemplating my murderous choice, and why I just did what I did. There was no cadence to the thrill of the fear in the rich's cries for me to regret what had already been done. I did it to selfishly save them, I did it to save myself. It wasn't fair that someone had to be the sacrificed, but the original Princess was the only one who had died for nothing... This slum girl had more bravery than I could ever possess, and I had been through too much to just perish for the doings of my enemies.

Realisation had dawned upon the young, falling girl. She could feel nothing beneath the bones of her prominent spine. Even the air was nowhere. Chest tightening, breath speeding, she managed to force her eyes shut, bracing for impact – But the darkness seemed to scare her more, so she opened them back up to me again. She was powerless versus the world's gravity. There was nothing which could defeat an extreme fall.

The gushing air races throughout her whole body, and I can see the ground getting closer and closer by the second. There's a petrified look upon her face in which tells me that she's starting to find it harder to breathe, almost to the point where her cheeks are turning a bright blue. Her hand is still reaching for the high-up balcony in which I had pushed her from, desperately trying to grasp onto any ignorant chance of survival... But soon enough, her back cracks on the bed of grass below and her head falls back too, sending the golden crown to glide down the carpet of white, all the way to Kylo Ren's polished boots.

She was staring right back at me, her eyes as dead as her soul, blankly meeting mine. Blood slowly trickled out of her nose, and onto the paling of her lips. The white dress had turned a shade of horrific crimson and the thorns from the rose bushes which aligned the castle's edge, hand punctured into her innocent skin.

The slum girl broke like porcelain on the ground, her skin smashing and colliding as her bones shattered into pieces of austerity. A chill runs right through me, but my deep-rooted hatred for all those that had made me this way, warms my blood right up. Have I truely turned cold and calculating, beyond ever turning back into the dim and weakened girl, in which the Troopers had plucked from the orchards? _Yes._

The sounds of distress only muffle in my ears as the violins of a death march are being played upon the silver strings of my black heart. Every movement seems to blur in my vision, with their extravagant colours and bleeding happiness – But the man who wore nothing but his dark clothes and the ominous shadow which followed him everywhere, was anything but obscured by the distance between us.

I knew Kylo Ren was looking at me, I could feel the hatred and evil smouldering in his menacing gaze. He was the only one who peered through the sun's gleam enough to stare at me, all while the rest of Jorkhan's attention was on the dead Queen who bled right into the greenery of _her_ palace soil.

Oblation and sacrifice is a traitorous thing, just as is death in the dirt of the slums or upon the gold of wealth – Nothing was fair, no matter if you had money or not. It's an inescapable destiny for each of us as individuals and, for today's twist of structure, the passing of my imitation was almost as if I had lifted the noose from around my neck, and tightened it around the girl who is dead below.

He and I, are now the same – But he chose to be this wicked, and I was only moulded by his violence to become his opposing shadow. Through the treachery of my lies and a forced imitation, I seem to have stripped myself clean from who I once was, whilst still defying the role I was replacing... Leaving me to only turn into someone who would do anything to survive.

My soul is burning up in flames, and I only bask in the heat of my inner darkness. There's no escaping the twinge of a smirk which settles upon my face as I stare at the black dot of Kylo Ren, and I hope that he can somehow see it from here, so it will forever become the muse to his hauntings.

But then to my surprise, my mouth falls as the hovering aircraft in the sky, sinks lower than its place among the white clouds. All grounds and surfaces of Jorkhan seem to vibrate, and I could almost feel my brain rattling against my skull. The whole kingdom resonated with the deep grumble of the straining engines which came from the black First Order vehicle that now made itself known to everyone below.

The shuttle roared and the wind buffeted around it, rocking the trees ever so slightly and causing my hair to whip in front of my eyes and drag through my burn. Sudden fear bursted through my chest, as I thought about the possibility of the controllers in the aircraft, aiming a target on me and shooting a deadly laser into my heart, but as I flicked my eyes back to Kylo Ren who still stands at the end of the alter, with what seems to be, General Hux whispering into his ear – I watch as both of them, stop whatever conversation they were muttering to one another, to turn their attention to the aircraft above. It was as if they never knew it was there.

Just when the confusion settles amongst my bones at the possibility of two of the most authoritative members of The First Order, not knowing of the presence of one of their own ships hovering above the ceremony... A flash of red catches my eye, and drags my gaze back to the black aircraft.

But it wasn't all black. Strangely, there was an inkling of crimson upon the bottom of the craft. It was the same colour red as the liquid which spurted out of the dead Queen, but it didn't seep across the black as chaotically and randomly as the blood painted the grass in which the guests all trampled upon... It was perfectly etched into the shape of a remarkable symbol. A symbol in which I had only seen a handful of times before.

It was the emblem and mark of The Resistance.

A gasp falls out of my throat and lips. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest, but before I could clutch my hand over my ribs to keep the pulsating beat behind the cage of bones, the aircraft is quick to cover up the symbol, when the latches below open... _And a bomb drops from the aperture._

Jorkahn seems to turn dead silent as everyone just watches in shock, the way the silver sphere from the sky, whistles through the air as it soars all the way down – But then all at once, it explodes... _I flinch, close my eyes, hold my breath, and brace for the impact of my own death._

Even through closed lids, I can tell the blast is stronger than the illuminance of the suns – And that, and the heat of the crash, is what I notice way before the horrific sound of its thudding drop fills my ears and thunders my insides almost to mush.

The foundations of the world shakes and convulses, as the people upon it all shrieked and cried loud as they attempted to withstand the power of the mighty wave of a violent blast.

But, I don't feel the strike of fire to my skin, nor does the cobblestone of the balcony start to rumble and shake out of place, causing me to topple down to the ravaged grounds along with the rubble of the destroyed castle. No, in-fact, for a second I presume that I had died a quick death, and I was most likely already standing in the heated flames of hell.

I open one eye, and then the next... Only to find that I am not living in hell, but still the havoc of Jorkhan, where a Resistance bomb had been aimed and dropped purposely, and heroically, right on the fleet of First Order ships at the back of the castle.

A blinding fire erupted from the rubble of where The First Order ships all docked, and as more crafts caught on fire, their engines only ricocheted with a domino effect of constant explosions. My face is contorted completely into one of pure shock, my mouth agape and slack as my hands hold stiffly on the side of the balcony, all while my body sways in the midst of windy impact. The sounds of both the explosions and the screams of the guests, and all those who lived in the city by the kingdom, pierce my throbbing ears and sends a thousand goosebumps scattering over my skin.

And just when everything couldn't seem more remarkable, the screams only hinder beneath the roar of a thundering battle cry. I turn my head to the sound coming from the city, and my wide eyes only lay upon the large, swarming wave of a rioting city.

The rebels. The Rebellion. There were so many more of them, they weren't just a group of people who were sick of being on the outside of mercy and righteousness... They were an angry, and violent, army and they were marching into town, throwing flames and weapons onto the Troopers, and throwing punches all the way to the castle gates.

They were ready for a war, and they were obviously not going down without a fight. I could have never suspected anything like this, but it brought a sense of hope amongst all this destruction, and a bright and quivering smile lapped my face as I understood that Anwar had a main part in all of this – He knew that The Resistance stood a chance.

My frazzled nerves jumped all together, but somehow in different directions. Those nerves were frayed to the quick thinking that morphed into not thinking at all.

Kylo Ren and his men no longer stand at the alter, but soon enough the sounds of the terrified people and the chants of the rebellion, are only fighting against the shrilling sounds of blasters going off, and the distant sound of a whirring, lightsaber.

From up here, the sight of Jorkhan is almost unimaginable. No longer does colourful cloaks and dresses surround the limp body of the Queen on the grounds, but they flee from the battleground. The First Order took no time in selecting their weaponry, and they were not fighting for the survivors, they were fighting for no survivors but themselves.

The First Order no longer had a way to tie themselves to Jorkhan, now that the _Queen_ is dead, and after the first firing from The Resistance, they decided that they will just try and pry it from our filthy hands... But without ships, they must wait for further fleets, and so far, the rebellion are outnumbering their army of white-armoured soldiers.

I'm the conflict between two competing impulses which exist and grow within the human nature of the central Universe. We are created with the intention to live in peace with our Gods their creations, and follow the moral commands of the equation for frail existence – But once you turn your back to human nature, you notice that the darkness always lingers in every breath and every essence. In the dark, many act violently to obtain supremacy over the life of the Universe, because there are many plagues in this lifetime, and greed is a disease of the conscious mind, but the addiction to survival is a bane to existence.

I have realised only now, that I would do anything to stay alive – I always had. I stole, lied, and manipulated my way through my life, in order to stand today... But was the act of killing another to survive, evil? In my past, I was a child of innocence, because I had never seen no further evil other than the rich eating what I had savaged on a hungry stomach. Though, now that I am much older, I have confronted evil right in the eyes and embodied it into my understanding of the Universe, which holds the clashing of light and dark.

Innocence is a threat of prejudice. Experience is the destroyer of ignorance. It's a battle of life against savagery, and it's order verses chaos. My faith in the world is badly damaged, as am I. I have retreated into a vessel of a persecuted innocent, a mind of a woman who needs nothing but revenge, I want to keep this world running on rules and civility, but Jorkhan's commandments have never been fair for all, causing the burdened to become obsessed with hunting for something much more empowered than equality – For the people of the slums don't want what the rich have, they want to steal their wealth right from their hands and then kill them all.

I once thought that there used to be just good and bad, but now I know, that everyone is truely evil – That is the promise in human nature. Kylo Ren once told me that people would do anything for money and power, and perhaps he was right because he knew just as well as I did now, that everyone is followed by shadows.

The Resistance are causing as much wrath as The First Order could. They bombed the grounds of Jorkhan, just as the dark-side would – And their desire to control and subjugate proves more powerful than a soul's desire for empathy, intellect and civilisation.

The dead slum girl was right: _'–That small herd isn't as small as your ignorance believes it is... The worst of their wrath is to only come.'_ And here it is. We have a chance to survive. Jorkhan is fighting back against the prejudice of the crown, and the savagery of The First Order.

This is Jorkhan, and without its people, this world is nothing but a name. Everybody wants to rule the world, but this time, I think that change is truely coming and it might just be for the best as even I, have surrendered to the thrill of violence and mass hysteria.

There was no mercy in a war, and with their first shot being bestowed upon the Order's fleet... They declared a war for the sparing of Jorkhan. Kylo Ren was still down there, I was frozen in my place and I only watched as he brutally dug his burning saber into the chests of many guests. He had a barbaric twist upon his face, and the disgusting cut across his cheek only matched the vehemence of his dangerous rage.

In his cloaks of black, he plunged his weapon of firing red into the neck of a wealthy man who wore all the colours of the sun. There was no blood to seep out of his burnt wound, but there was a spurt of mud which spat up into Kylo Ren's wretched face as the man ignorantly tried to punch the apprentice away, before his untimely death. Kylo Ren's neck muscles strained and I could see the way he basked in the smell of a raging war in which he had never expected would happen today, and the fear that eluted all around him as his head arched back to the sky and his black eyes rested back upon me.

He smirks. I turn around and run for my _damned_ life.

I turn out of the bedroom and spill into the hectic hallways, where palace guards are unsure of what to do. They wear the armour of white, the same as the StormTroopers do, but there's a crest upon their shoulders which prove that their allegiance is first tied to the kingdom, which no longer has a leader. With the occasional person sprinting through the far up halls, they do not spare the time to stop me as they linger with their guns cocked, but not yet loaded.

The more I run, the faster I get to the lower levels of the kingdom, where all the scared faces are looming and trying to find cracks to hide in, from the Order. The crowd is a violent flood of people, everyone moving in the same direction and threatening to trample me if I lose my footing. Everyone seems to be running further into the castle, but I am trying to find an exit out of the high walls and rich curtains. I am faced with the challenge of pushing through the crowd rather than flowing along with it, but I avoid the first exit that I come across which is a direct path to the courtyards that connect to the fields in which the war-zone is most rampant.

I try and claw my way through everyone that knocks me out of their way and I begin to feel the claustrophobia take over. Gunfire soars through the air, but there's too many echoing sounds to know which way the bullets and blasters were coming from. My heart rate began to speed up and so did my breathing.

I heave as if I was drowning, and my skin suddenly feels cold as if the air is now cooling my overstressed flesh. I wheeze as my burning lungs gasp for a rest, but I don't stop my footing as I bunch the material of my skirt up over my calves to find more movement. The wound across my face is stinging as the wind laps onto it, causing my sweat and hair to sink into the raw burn.

People are everywhere, and some are already wounded or coughing up the dust from the first explosion. It worried me that the majority of the guests were fleeing inside for cover, when surely the castle is only trapping them in. The kingdom guards that lingered by the walls, where the portraits of the bloodline of royals were hung upon, were doing nothing to help, purely because they still had no orders to fulfil – But some were beginning to load their blasters and walk against the crowds to the openings, guarding the space until the Troopers of the Order came to fight them.

There was an overwhelming sense of misery in the palace, but this was something that I had expected, though now I only hold onto a slither of hope, as The Resistance ship is most likely still in the sky, and the rebellion is marching to the kingdom, where they would then have to find a way through the gates to fight the merciless Order.

When I finally make it to the opening in which connects to a further expanse of a courtyard that should lead me to the main entry of the palace, the light which the doorway allows to bring upon the heads of the herd of alarmed people, looks like a haloed glow of freedom.

But suddenly, before I am able to reach it – I collide right into the chest of a tall man, sending me crashing to the ground. All the chaos around me, rushes by in a blur and I know the pain is coming as I whimper on my hands and knees, only flinching when the feet of the herd kick into me as they trample by. It goes by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. All perception of time becomes distorted.

It is when a particularly forceful kick, swipes right across my face, that causes me to scream out and move my head up to look at the culprit. A much older, pudgy man who wore all drapes of emerald, turns back to look at me – His rumpled, grey face turning red and a scowl forming upon it at my frail, dirty state. My wound cuts open, and the blood throbs right out and slides down my chin and neck.

"Move scum!" He yells to me, before turning back and running further into the embrace of the fallen kingdom.

_Scum._

My face was throbbing, and my mind was aching with the strike of vulgar hatred, which only detonated in my bones and ignited the survival in my veins. There was nothing left in my heart but eternal darkness. My face closed into a tight grimace, and a few tears flood out of my eyes as my skin becomes pale and clammy at the expanse of pain, but I felt no hurt from the defamation from the man who is now long gone.

I scoff to myself and a weak and tired breath of laughter falls from my lips _– If only he knew who I was, just moments ago._

Finally finding my feet, I feel as if once vertical all the blood had suddenly rushed down into my shoes and my heart had stopped beating. I swayed on wobbly feet, my hand moving to my face and feeling the warmth of my blood as it seeps into my nails and into my mouth. I had no time to feel the pain, I only had time to escape – I continued clawing my way to the light.

The light was dazzling and once the air hit my skin, I could barely make out the shapes and sizes of the thousands of people who were running in all sorts of directions around the palace and along the courtyards.

It was a haze of colours, but the colour red and white were all that I could distinguish – And when my vision finally shifted like the turning of a looking-glass, my body froze in its place of the doorway to the outer-courtyards, when I noticed the swarm of StormTroopers who were all closing in on the kingdom, and gunning down anyone in their way.

It was as if I had just thrown myself into a dangerous, city of apocalyptic tendencies. I could almost see the kingdom crashing even now, as the brick of the courtyards began to break off in some areas from the previous stampedes, turning into scattered debris and rubble.

My dress was now tatted and stained with my own blood, which only kept continuously running down my face like salty tears. My mind suddenly became hazy and I felt my system failing amid a mass of terrible sensations: The fearful blow of the explosion, the noise of glass shattering behind me, the hoarse howl of people – I felt as if I was living in a nightmare.

The world seemed darker, and as the shock settles over my bones and clicks my mind off for a short second, I turn my bloodied face to the sky.

No longer were the suns shining with a glorious hue, but even the blue of the sky was dark, covered with grey clouds that smothered every ray of light which tried to penetrate the murk. It was only until I blinked slowly and my ears stopped ringing, did my mind shift back into drive and I was able to hear the screams and destruction of the land, and tell that the grey of the blue sky, wasn't just clouds, but it was the dense smoke which eluted from the bomb that had detonated, far off in the other direction.

Thunder roared, but there was no rain to clash with the flashes of lightning. I furrow my brows – The cracks of harsh sound wasn't lighting, it was blasters being shot by, and the flashes were the spits of death coming from Trooper's aims.

A series of new flashes broke out, lifting and spreading through incandescent smoke right in front of me. I flinched back as the strike of red flew by, but the heat felt like a great gush of flame, until it became cold as it propelled away from me, and obliterated the back of a running man on the other-side of the courtyard.

I tried to scream, but I found that my throat was too dry, so I just ended up stretching my mouth wide and allowing the blood to sink upon my tasteless tongue.

I had to look away as the man fell limp to the ground, in the same way the slum girl had as I pushed her down the balcony edge. My body shook with anger, and I knew that there was an extreme possibility that I would end up as dead as that man, who had a hole in his back... But I had no time to die, and that was the only phrase that was ringing around my mind as I took a step out into the openness of the courtyards, and began running with the people who were ducking from shots and twisting around corners.

First Order weapons were firing from every direction, but I never stopped sprinting. A few feet away where the stone of the yard meets a conjunction, a bloody, red flame had decided to punch its way down from a sniper shot from the third level of the castle, and the force of the strike hits the middle of a pillar, which I only just dodge as it crashes to the stone floors and brings the ceiling of the conjunction down with it.

I could hear a woman cry from beneath the shattering, but I made no effort to turn around as the dust of the debris rushed into my nostrils, and caught onto the heels of my shoes. Thousands of pieces of marble and stone, became nothing but a deadly rainfall that showered down on the remaining individuals running in the same direction as I was.

I wail out as the smoke begins to cloud my vision and I begin to choke on it's heaviness. Out of shock, I lift my fingertips to my cheek and wipe at the spilling crimson, before then swiping at the air... When the air finally clears, I find it is only me who runs towards the edge of the palace. I was alone, but the shots seemed to be getting quieter as I created further distance between their ravaging and I.

I vaguely remembered the way to the front gates of the kingdom from when I was first brought here to begin my life of royal incarceration, but once the towering walls of the gates were in sight, I knew for certain that I was heading in the right direction.

My heels are thumping loudly upon the grounds, but I do not care if they give away my presence because I cannot find an ounce of bravery to slow down my heavy footing. Hot beads of sweat are falling down my back, puddling in my hands. My peripheral's are as cloudy as the darkened sky, and I am certain that if I don't continue focusing on my breathing, my lungs will tightly squeeze and kill me quicker than a bullet could.

The air is finally clearing, and the sound of pain and grief is slowly subsiding. I almost give myself a chance to slow down my pace, but as soon as the roar of a crowd floods my ears again, I only force myself to run quicker. I almost assumed that it was another wave of kingdom guests, fleeing from the halls of the palace where they are almost trapped like mice in a tubby cat's litter-box – But when I notice that the songs coming from the citizens of war, are not truely wallowing in fear, but rather anger and vengeance... I realise that it is not the sounds of the kingdom guests, it is the battle-roars of the rebellion, who have reached the other-side of the palace walls.

I arrived at the foot of the steep set of stairs which lead to the precinct of stone, where kingdom guards shielded themselves from rocks and bricks being thrown over the wall, and cautiously gathered around the high and wide, wooden doors which were being pounded upon by the angry fists of thousands.

I didn't hesitate before I gathered my skirt in my red hands and ascended the stairs, dodging a thrown stone and ultimately falling on the last step in a quick thud and motion. My palms and knees graze upon the stone floors, and I clenched my teeth together to keep from crying out, as suddenly, two guards made their way over and both twined their armoured fingers around my shoulders and pulled my limp body back to my feet.

"Get back in the palace!" One mechanically shouted, and when I noticed the additional crest upon his plated chest, I understood that he was the captain of the palace guards. He previously stood directing the soldiers with a look of profound confusion even with their helmets on, anxiety and anger all mixed across the panes of their blank eyes... But now, he peers down at me, the poor girl in a bloody, blue dress with a distraught face of wounds and tears.

The rebellion of the streets are thudding against the castle walls, trying to get in to fight the war where the heart of it truely lies. The Resistance are trying to get to their enemies of the crown, and the Order.

I splutter and almost choke on the the bone-dry feeling in my mouth, which ached when I tried to swallow the rise of hope which pulsated in my veins. My ribcage constricted into itself a little tighter, I glance to the masked soldier who cocked his head to the side, "Open the gates."

He moves slightly in his mask, "What?" He asked, either not understanding my peculiar request, or understanding it perfectly but needing to hear it again.

I spit my words through my teeth and a splatter of blood shoots onto the white of his mask, "Open. The. Gates."

I glance into the eyes of the head-guard, hoping to see some form of empathy in his masked eyes, but all I am met with is my very own glassy irises, which even the colour is screaming behind the rise of red – My burning vexation loitering in my dilated pupils.

The solider pauses, all while his men loiter around as the walls keep away the riot of the slums, as a true merciless war is being bestowed within the kingdom grounds. The guard's silence almost brings a fearful feeling to my chest, but suddenly, his mechanical mask erupts into a small chuckle.

He shakes his head in the helmet, and his grip tightens around my arm, "We are already under attack from The First Order, and you think that we are going to open the gates and just let in all the rioting scum?!" He shouts to me, shaking my body in his tight grip. His black eyes move in a little closer to me, but all I stare at is my own face – The face of someone who has been through hell and back, but survived no matter what cruelty was bestowed upon her.

He laughs again, "Who do you think you are?"

I suck a sharp breath inwards, and it sits coldly in my chest.

I'm nobody, never was anyone. I played the role of a starving, dying soul. I imitated a Princess, and now I have become someone abused by war – And in the midst of my roles, my soul tried to love another, who didn't even possess one to begin with, and that was the most destructive to my original temperament and nature. 

I have killed, only to survive, and the first death of today which was by my hand, was only the first marking of battle. The royal kingdom has been thrown into chaos and with my alignment in darkness, I now moved with speed and decisiveness. I am undaunted and unafraid, I have outwitted my enemy, all while being ignorant to the true power of the place in which I originally came from.

I am more than I could have originally willed myself to be – But I am still uncertain as to who I am supposed to become amiss all this destruction. It almost seemed that Jorkhan itself had convulsed at the speed and momentum of my own brittled heartbreak.

There's panic in the streets and riots in the heart of Jorkhan, the kingdom is becoming paralysed by the Order after the occurrence of their original tying to the world, has been destroyed, so their taking it from beneath our feet... But it was The Resistance who struck first.

Doom and destiny is aligning. One just has to have the right amount of wit and nerve to triumph both in this world. Jorkhan is on the edge of chaos, and I was the one who had pushed the world only further, but there is always pain before anything can heal.

I have shown my true strength by holding the throne in the name of survival, and not only for myself, but for all. I am a living embodiment of Jorkhan's secret exploit, unmoving and indestructible.

My lips twist. I inch closer to my own reflection in the guard's mask, "I'm the _fucking_ Queen."

He laughs, and before I know it, I am thrown back to the ground.

"The Queen of Jorkhan is dead," His electric voice roared, his armoured fingers now itching their way to the blaster which was clipped to his belt. For a second, the darkness of the sky deceives me once again as my vision blurs like it did when I first entered the courtyards, but when I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them again, I work through the hazy gaze – Only to meet the tip of his gun which is pointing at my forehead.

I eye the barrel and notice how close his metal fingers were to the trigger behind it. I flinch, my eyes closing back again as I await the darkness to consume me entirely... But, I'm still not afraid.

I hear a click of the safety being turned off, and I can almost decipher the smirk upon his lips as the guard speaks once more, "And so are y–"

But then, suddenly, a voice from behind cuts the guard's words short, and holds the power to force his finger away from the trigger of the gun in which he holds to my head... Once again, I have somehow survived death.

_"Open the gates!"_


	36. Royal Imitation

There was a sudden shift in the air as two polished black shoes cross the court of stone, which curled around the edge of the kingdom walls. 

The raging fire that adorns the greenery of the castle still spits and sputters embers into the smothering darkness of the sky, but I have no morality to catch the falling ash, as my hands are practically bound with the distress of my fragile humanity, which is being threatened by the blaster pressed against my head.

Once the voice that belongs to the pair of clicking boots speaks out to the guard who's finger is dangerously close to the trigger, a shiver trickles down my spine and ignites a further fight within my fragile bones as the blaster is immediately pulled away from my skull, the moment the voice demands to open the gates which save us from the wrath of the rebellion, in a tone of total authority.

As the guard lifts his helmet to the figure behind me, I can feel the sweat drench my skin, the throbbing of my own eyes, the ringing sound of the safety being unlocked from his blaster vibrating in my ears, and the thumping of my heart against my chest. My fingers are curled into a fist, nails digging into my palms to feel blood trap beneath them. I can't hear my rapid breathing, but I can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of my lungs in this slow of time. 

The head guard of the royal court bows, and places his blaster back upon the clipping of his belt, "Prince Dayvis." He announces, causing the dozen other guards who all wore the same armour as the soldiers from The First Order, to look over and bow their heads, as the rebellion still thud on the other-side of the gates which they keep locked tight.

I couldn't move, but I could feel the Prince standing tall from behind my cowered frame. The floor remained cold and my body tensed as he chuckled low. All my senses were clouding in the mass of prominent confusion, all I could taste, smell, breath, see, was blood – Jorkhan was becoming a cruel bloodbath of three different waves of ruling, and I fear that I am in the middle of every thrash and strike. I previously presumed that Prince Dayvis would have been locked away from the battle, hiding away in his chambers before someone from either The Resistance or The Order, came to find him and tear away his crown – But no, here he is... Standing tall, with his golden crown perched perfectly upon his brown hair. 

Ever so slowly, my eyes looked up and met his as I used my grazed palms to push my kneeling body to face him. I was expecting a scowl to be bestowed down upon me, as I crouch on the stones in the same manner as I had when the kingdom collected me from the slums and placed me in a line of faces similar to my own. Besides the casual twitch of the eye, and a small plain smirk rising upon the pink of his mouth, there was nothing – The Prince only blinked at me once, before turning his attention back to the dozen of guards and the superior.

_"King."_ Dayvis corrected him, and only then did I realise that with the passing of the imitated Queen, the ruling crown has fallen upon his head and shoulders. The title of the King was something in which young Prince Dayvis had always craved, but it was a shame that he would only lose it on the same day he had gained the power.

King Dayvis, titled his head down to me, but his stern eyes never left the reflection of the guard's mask, "Now, do as she said and open the gates." He snapped.

I wanted to move, and I wanted to stand but as I tremble between the head-guard and the Prince, I find that I was still so close to the blaster which had just threatened me, and some other guards still held tightly onto their own, as they lingered around. I couldn't just die now, but the ultimatum is still loaded in the kingdom's barrels, all while the Order unloads theirs upon the people.

There was still too much going on inside my head, and I didn't think it would ever stop. Moving now would be too risky, to dangerous... And the Prince is remarkably requesting the same thing which I had – The only difference was, he now had the power and title to demand it, instead of ask. 

He wished to open the gates? That makes no sense. I wanted to open them because the riots could fight back against the Order and possibly bring what little is left of the kingdom, down with them when eventually The First Order win this damaging battle – But why would Prince Dayvis wish to see his home crash into a burial ground of war? Why would he willingly open the gates to his family's kingdom, which he had tried to savagely protect this whole time, when he previously believed that it would only waste the fight within Jorkhan's heart?

Shots and gunfire were still blasting from all directions behind the palace, and what terrifies me the most is that the guards here, weren't fighting against the Order, they seemed to be doing their best at containing their own people, all while the real enemy's firing is only sounding closer and closer, to where we all gather. 

But then it dawns on me as a harsh thud cracks some of the wood of the gate, and a horrific battle roar echoes from behind it... It doesn't matter if the new reigning King lets them in, the rebellion is getting through those gates, no matter what. Both sides of the war will flood together and fight like crashing tides upon a shore of bullet-shells. 

The guard takes a slow and steady step back, but his bravery is anything but. His mechanical voice is unguarded by the hint of apprehension, and even the black panes of his mask, seem to shine with unease.

"But..." He starts, shaking his helmet, "– The Resistance will only tear the kingdom down?"

He's right. He's so right. All the guards know it, I know it, and King Dayvis _has_ to know it too. I wonder if the humans scattered along the gates can sense it too, if they know that their combined rage will actually burn this kingdom into hot rubble. 

There's a stench of conviction in the smog, and with it coming from the first bomb dropped, I can only assume that the people like me, can all taste the bitter, metallic tang in the air, feel the same prickling sensation at the nape of their necks as tiny hairs stand on end – There is no rest in the fury of The First Order's vengeance, and there will be no mercy in the high fists of the rebellion. 

The former Prince begins to walk casually around, his footsteps, slow and measured as it echos mockingly throughout the stone yard, all while the shouts from the other-side and the screams and gunshots within the kingdom, are chaotic in their natural form. 

Dayvis shakes his head, his shoulders as strong and straight as any King's. 

"The kingdom is no more," He says in a flat tone as he points to the tall gate behind the heads of the guards, "The Resistance or The First Order... One way or another, the reign of Jorkhan will be dismantled. Prepare what little is left of the kingdom guards, and on my word... _Open the gates."_

My face falls with surprise of hearing him give the order to ruin what has only just become his own.It's traitorous, the fear that sinks its claws into my heart, seeping into my veins like ice. I know that it was my intention from the moment the bomb dropped upon the fleet, to let in the thousands of the uprising, but now that it is actually being considered by the faceless mask's of the guards, I can't help but feel as alarmed as they must be behind all that armour. 

It's a slow few seconds as the guards all stand in silence, only some turning their heads to the pounding gates to consider how many people truely knock on the other-side. I can almost hear the way the head-guard swallows from behind his helmet, and there is a stiffness in his hands as I assume that he wants to refuse the request for the benefit of his own life and the guards... But he can't, for the King has given him an order and his allegiance will always be with the crown, until The Resistance kill him, or The First Order try to recruit him to their dark-side.

He only nods once, before motioning two of his fellow men to the stairs which curl around the side of the gates, leading to the walkway at the top, where they truely see the numbers of the rebellion, and give the order to the gatekeepers who stood trembling at the overlook.

Crimson was still dripping down my chin, and I was surprised my adrenaline was still fighting away the groggy feeling at the back of my head and that I hadn't fainted from the loss of blood yet. When I find strength to finally swallow the dry feeling out of my mouth and stand to my wobbly feet, the metallic taste sinks into my teeth. 

I turn tiredly to King Dayvis, but my heart is still pounding at the pace of a thousand drums being smashed upon.

"You're opening the gates?" I ask him, furrowing a brow at the change of heart from earlier before, when I told him to do that exact thing back on the balcony, before I took matters into my own hands... _And then ultimately pushed them off the side._

Dayvis faces me, his eyes searching mine with a calmness unlike no other – It's a stark difference to the night in which we first met, as he pressed his beloved dagger to my neck and threatened to end my life for the good of Jorkhan. 

No longer did he look like that mischievous boy who was depicted in all the paintings across the palace, but he looked like a man who had sacrificed all of his disobedience and ignorance, all so he could stand here today with his family's crest pinned to his heart, but no relevance of blood to stand tall by his side as his home becomes shambles. 

He gives a small smile, one that I had never seen from him before, "You killed the _Queen_ and started the first wave of the war?" He muttered sarcastically, raising a single brow and shaking his head, "I must say... I never saw that coming."

I'm as still as a statue as he takes a few steps closer to me. Head tilted back to meet his eyes, in only a skip of a heartbeat, I cannot understand how in only the matter of one day, Prince Dayvis had become nothing but a foe on the same side of the battleground, as Kylo Ren had shifted into the merciless enemy of both my heart and home. 

Once those thick and tall gates have opened, the swarm will file in like fire catching upon dry hay. There is no locking the doors to the kingdom after they have been unhatched, and as soon as the rebels have swarmed with their makeshift weaponry and rage, there is nowhere left for the rich to hide or run.

There's a cycle of predators fighting upon the land of Jorkhan today – But it seems that the kingdom is at the bottom of the food chain and The Resistance are only climbing up to the top where The First Order will do anything to keep their high position.

Out of every plan and blueprint of my mind, it always led to this point. Run away from the kingdom, and let the abused in to dismantle everything that tormented me into this shapeless void of a soul. Open the gates, let them in, run... But where to? I have no more aces hidden my sleeves or no more secret acts of violence to save myself from my impending death sentence – But it seems that the new King is right and honest, when he says that Jorkhan is doomed either way, so I'd at least like to be buried in any place in which I am no longer haunted by the life I have lived as a royal imitation. 

I shake my head to him, "Doesn't matter what I did. After The Resistance or The First Order... Jorkhan is no more." I say, referring back to his previous phrases. 

Amiss all this chaos, it is remarkable that Dayvis seems as poised as ever. He is the only one in presumably the whole kingdom, who is still standing calm and has a mind that is functioning beyond the smog of death. I don't understand how he is somehow keeping control of the panic which should be coursing his veins – He should hate me for what I had done. He has so many reasons to still retract the dagger from his belt and embed it into my beating heart, but there still seems to be time for that, until he gives his final order to the gatekeepers above.

I don't flinch when he places a warm hand upon my shoulder, but I don't push myself further into it either.

"Your wits have surprised me, but I can only thank you for trying to keep Jorkhan alive, despite the threats of death you have been forced to endure." He sighs, his small smile finally falling back down as if the corners of his lips were tied to the drop of his life-expectancy. 

King Dayvis' eyes move away from my own and stare idly at the wretched cut across my face as he continues, "I'm sorry, for all the pain we caused but in the end, all of this world will still perish."

Cold air tightens in my chest. _Did he just apologise?_

Never had I been so startled by an apology, granted I had never gotten many but for the once merciless Prince to be choking on his old tendencies in such a fragile way, it means that he is somehow proving his strength by looking weak to me in this sudden moment. 

In the heart of a war of carnage, apologising no longer means that one understands that they have done wrong, it means that they value an alliance more than their ego. 

One thing I always knew I didn't need, was an apology. I have been twisted and shamed into this new vessel of damage, and I don't believe that if my enemies had spoken their sorries before I sliced Kylo Ren's face open, exiled Ruby Mayse to the Orchards, or pushed the young girl off the side of the balcony... It would have made a difference. No, I still would have done those things, apology or not. It's only a couple of words against a thousand actions, _but it still felt nice._

I nod my head to him, "And I am sorry for that same conclusion." I say, barely giving any attention to his apology, but giving a hint of my own too.

My inner crusade comes in both forms, physical and mental. The heartache I fight within, was once like a heavy jacket but as more sounds of war come from the inner kingdom, it became heavy bones instead. There was only a matter of time before those gates would open, and I would have to keep running to safety... _But what is Dayvis going to do?_

He shook his head to me and that same smile returned, but this time, it was a little mischievous but not in the harmful way I had become accustomed to. 

"Don't be," The young King said, causing me to furrow my brows together and tilt my head. 

"W-What?" I uttered, unsure of what his intentions were now. 

He huffs a breath of laughter out, but it only falls limp in the smoky air between us. His hand falls from my shoulder and he uses it to scratch the back of his neck casually. 

"I suppose, back on the balcony both of us were _still_ lying to one another. You were lying about your intentions, and I was lying when I said that The Resistance do not have an ounce of power against the Order." He said in a sly voice, his eyes once again meeting mine softly, "But they don't need power, they just need to... _Resist."_

My heart grows a size bigger. Hope floods my veins quicker than the slums had swarmed the streets after the bombing.

"You're on their side?" I ask him, wide eyed and taken aback.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "I'm not on anyone's side but my own," The gates slightly rattle as a forceful push of hundreds thud upon it, he glances only once to the barrier between his wealthy home and the people in which he once loathed, before finishing his sentence, "– But there is a nice spot saved for me on that aircraft which bombed the fleet... And it will be taking certain people out of Jorkhan, before The First Order ultimately win this war."

His eyes then move back over to me, and I know there is a hint of vulnerability swirling around my blown pupils. My stomach dropped right to my feet. He's escaping Jorkhan, he's letting the world perish but so long as his feet aren't upon the crumbling ground.

My heartache rung me out until I was dry inside, but even then, no more tears would ever come. My insides still felt as raw as if a winter wind was blowing right through my skin. 

My chin quivers and my words stutter, "Y-You're leaving your kingdom?"

His hand returns back to my shoulder, "No. This is, and always will be my home... No matter how cruel my family and I were to it."

Dayvis' words slow as his eyes flicker all across my face, and for a split second I wonder if he is trying to imagine it without the burn, and taking note of all the similarities that was shared between his sister and I. 

His hand falls once again, but not before his fingers drag along my arms as if he never wished to let me go. My guts twist – Perhaps, I really did remind him of his sister, and he was feeling guilty that she had died for nothing? 

King Dayvis takes a slow and steady step back, his hands now folding behind his back as his golden pins and crown reflect the sudden return of the suns. 

He nods his head only once to me, but I can't help but notice it resembles a bow instead. Dayvis speaks again, his voice baring no other emotion other than something on the verge of strangely... _Peace._

The corners of his lips turn up again, "You are leaving Jorkhan."

I gasp.

"W-What?"

The surprise was like deep ocean currents but invisible in its sudden, brutal ferocity, sweeping me away in engulfing despair, surrendering my fight and stirring in the depths of an occurring war.

Clenching my hands into fists so tightly, despite the fact that my palms were stinging and bleeding beneath my fingernails, I heave a desperate breath in, only to cry it out again.

The Prince of Jorkhan – The boy who had tried to kill me on many occasions, was sacrificing his own freedom for me, the girl from the slums who pretended to be his sister.

Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence and suspended in the air. I closed my eyes momentarily and surrendered myself for the laughter to come, as he tells me that he's joking and only wanted to torture me once more before he flies safely away, but the sneers never come.

He's being sincere. Prince Dayvis has apologised to me, and now he's sparing me from death and possibly taking my place as I take his own. 

I shake my head too quick to be normal, and my brutal wound stings as my face folds and the tears begin to clean the burn with the salt of my undeserving. 

The reining King, blows a shaky and large breath of air before looking back to the palace walls and speaking towards the stone, but more to me. 

"The aircraft will be landing around the edge of the kingdom shortly. There shouldn't be many people around to stop you from getting there. Everyone is either fleeing to the kingdom, the orchards or if they are from the slums, they seem to be banging against these doors." He says, then turning back to me.

"You just have to make it through the swarm and to The Resistance's ship... And then, you're finally free."

Free. It was a word so out of reach of becoming my destiny. I once thought that freedom was a life lived without fear, but without fear I find that freedom is nothing to crave in the first place.

The rebellion is fighting for freedom, and perhaps their choice to overthrow is the most righteous act of liberty. I don't even know who I am now, but what would become of me with the privilege of amnesty of this royal imitation and freedom from the choking chains of doom too? 

I was trembling with the excuse of apprehension. I am morally responsible for all the cruel things in which I have now done, but never will I be free from the pain in my heart and the wounds I have endured. With time, I suppose I could find the angst tolerable, but I never presumed time was something that the Universe had planned for me... Was it fair to be finally granted freedom, all while the rest of my home fight for such thing, and die only trying?

In the midst of a wavering and cloudy vision, I look back to Dayvis, my lips quivering and tinctured red by blood.

"And what about you?" I whisper, to which I am surprised that he heard my words despite the roar of the rebellion and the destruction of the Order.

I watch as he reaches his hand into his pocket, retrieving something but holding it tight in his fist as he replies.

"I don't believe it is fair for my bloodline to all perish within these walls, and it not be my own life which splatters along with their glory in the end." 

I bite down on my bottom lip. He was going to stay with his kingdom and watch the walls of his home be brought down. He was going to die. 

"I can't let you stay," I say, before I even consider what fell through my lips, "We will go together..."

He shook his head. 

"No."

A sob escapes my throat.

"Please?"

He turns his face away from me and stares back to the gates. "No, now go." The King orders.

I take a step closer to him and curl around his side so he is back in-front of me. Dayvis' face twitched in pain and I could tell he was thinking so deeply as he stared at the thudding doors to his home. 

He's made up his mind. The King will die in the heart of his reign.

It seems in the end, nothing I once knew, made sense. 

Kylo Ren didn't turn out to be the man I thought he was, and neither was Prince Dayvis. It seems that this whole time, everyone was playing a royal imitation. 

I open my mouth, still speaking words in which I never thought I would say to him, "No, I ca–"

He cuts me off, but not with a defensive calling but rather, a loud and mighty shout... Which wasn't even directed to me, but rather the gatekeepers above the fence of the royal kingdom.

"Open the gates!"

A quiet shard from the shattering of my heart, cuts through the tension in the air when the obnoxious sounds of the big, gate doors opening echoed throughout the whole kingdom.

I couldn't fight off the tincture of fear as I accidentally gasped at the sight of the cracked opening. My mind couldn't comprehend the amount of people who had all squashed themselves against the gates of the kingdom. The doors were barely opened, and yet already thousands of hands were extending through the gap until there was enough space for bodies to start swarming through. 

Sounds of war and vengeance began to fill up the space of the entrance to the palace, vague and incomprehensible – My skin was being tormented by its own personal army of goosebumps, and as one man who was covered in dirt and rags runs over to one of the guards, the masked soldier is unsure of what to do as the rebel begins to throw punches onto his armour. 

Hundreds of footsteps began to trample along the stone, most people rushing by Dayvis and I, to get to the palace, but the second that a woman who looked as if she was nothing but skin and bones, notices the golden crown above his head, a dozen others all began to make their way over – They held imitated weapons in their grimy hands. Rocks, sticks, bricks and welding tools, nothing compared to the damage a blaster could do... Which ultimately was the tool that had shot the woman right in the neck as she tried to claw her fingers at the new King.

When the first shot from the kingdom's guards were fired, it didn't take long before the bullets were pelleting all across the entry way of the gates. Out of every front line, five or so rebels would drop to the ground, but five others would make it through... And there was hundreds of lines waiting to flood into the inviting castle. 

No longer did most rebels try to fight the guards or the Prince beside me as we cowered away behind three Troopers as they fired – Every person that actually survived the initial firing, only sprinted across the courtyards and far away... Where then they would have to face The First Order. 

Two guard's blasters became empty – It was only time until there was nothing keeping the riots from just waltzing in with nothing but the wrath of the Order to look forward to.

The Prince turns to me and I can only notice the fearful gaze of mine, in the reflection of his golden crown. Then, to my surprise, he wraps his fingers around my wrists and pulls me way from him, practically throwing me into the middle of the courtyard, where one man runs into my shoulder and almost knocks me down – There's only two blasters going off... The guard in front of Dayvis' weapon clicks – _One last blaster is firing._ Thousands are running into the courtyards of the kingdom. 

A rebel tackles the guard that Prince Dayvis hid behind, to the ground. For the first time since I had ever met him, _he looked scared._

He turns back to me, "Go!" Dayvis shouts, a sense of urgency promised in his cry. He's defenceless. He's vulnerable, there is no escape for his crown all because he is passing it onto a girl from the slums.

The tears are running down my bloodied cheeks. The Prince shakes his head at me and takes a step forward, only to lunge back when a rebel screams with raised fists right between us, and all the way to the castle. 

I turn my wide eyes to the gates. No longer are blasters firing, the kingdom guards have no more power against the wrath of the rebellion, nothing to withstand the hostility of the Order. 

But then, the sounds of blasters return. Terrified screams now ricochet from the swarm of insurgence. More bodies drop to the floor. Blood is everywhere. Bullets and strikes of lasers are shooting in all directions, on serval counts only just missing my body. 

I can hear the distant shout of Prince Dayvis from my side again, only just over the horrific sounds of carnage, "Run. You deserve freed–"

My chest heaves and my stomach churns. I have an inkling as to what the sudden change in war was, but I didn't want to face it as Prince Dayvis' words had been cut off.

Slowly, I turn back to the Prince, with an aggressive beat of my heart and a body that trembled like a leaf in a storm. 

I looked over just in time to catch the way the life leaves Prince Dayvis' wide and soulful eyes.

A howling scream pierces the air around the kingdom, and it takes a moment to realise that it belongs to me. 

A flickering and burning strike of red cut through the reigning King's heart from through his spine. Kylo Ren's lightsaber was soaking up all smoke of the air, only to waft it with a nostalgic tint of crimson, which didn't even spurt from the wound in the King's heart – For the merciless apprentice was twisting his burning saber to fuel his own sick pleasure in which he got from hearing the heartstrings sizzle. 

Dayvis' face was frozen, eyes wide, mouth slack, his gaze held mine as the pain was being washed away from a slow drag to death. There's still chaos all around, and now it is The First Order who are causing the most damage. Dressed in his crisp black robes with a blood red weapon in his hands, Kylo Ren was the executioner to the King who was still convulsing with the weapon buried into him.

The fear was pouring through my skin as if they had their own bullets ricocheting upon my fragile frame. My stomach was spinning, just as much as the whole world was also twirling chaotically around me, but when I met his deep, brown eyes, it seemed as though he was the gravity in the midst of it all, as all my focus was laid to rest upon him.

A smirk curls at his lips as he slowly withdraws his saber from Prince Dayvis' heart – But he seemed to be using his force abilities to keep the new King standing upright, his back against the apprentice's chest. Dayvis was still alive, but I could tell that he was slowly losing touch with reality as his organs fought for a couple more seconds of survival.

A zapping strike from a blaster just missed the tip of my nose as it flew by between the stare Kylo Ren and I held. We had a whole war raging around us, and yet, he and I were left untouched... My pleading need for revenge softly whispered to my soul that it had to mean something – After all, he and I seemed to have started this almighty battle in the midst of fighting for our own endgames. He wanted to destroy Jorkhan, and although I wanted to save it, I knew that there was no hope for outlasting so instead I know that I have to at least put up a fight before I end up like Prince Dayvis. 

The sorrowful casket that consumes my soul in the midst of all this bloodshed was illuminated by the light that trailed within the grief of my morality. There's a light still flickering in the void of my soul, but upon the sight of Kylo Ren, it rises into a flame that is fuelled by vengeance. I swallow and contort my features into a determined glare.

Less people were brave enough to run through the opened gates, a large majority of the thousands instead beginning to curl around the other end of the kingdom and climb those walls instead to reach the palace, without directly going through The First Order initially – But still, hundreds were turbulently dodging bullets and blasters, some even pinning down StormTroopers on their way towards the place in which had always defied them from human equity and freedom. 

Nobody dared to linger near the dark cloaked man in which I faced though, and if I weren't in his direct eye-line, I'd avoid him at all costs too.

A smile grew across Kylo Ren's face, contorting around the deep cut in the porcelain of his skin. I had no time to react before Kylo then pulled the dagger out the Prince's belt and swiped it quickly across Dayvis' neck too. There were no guards to save the King when his blood splattered across the stone, and as Kylo Ren dropped his limp body to the ground – The King was dead. There was no longer a ruler of Jorkhan, the land was free for all to take over until there was one enmity left standing.

Kylo Ren looked at the King's mutilated corps, smiling. He then laughed the most terrifying, disturbing laugh. Blood was dripping from his gloved hands and was smeared across his face, from where it had splattered around the slaughtered cut beneath it all. 

My eyes stared at Dayvis' body, whose mouth was opened slightly, trickles of blood too on his lips. The King's eyes were stuck in an empty stare of nothingness, but at the same time they were filled with the feeling of betrayal and loss. His right arm lays limp across the stone, blood dropping down his fingertips, which all extended as a gold coin sat upon his pale palm. 

My breathing slows in realisation and my eyes widen before him. Every muscle in my body becomes tight as they sprung into action for a useless fight. My anxiety grows into a hurricane of thoughts, all of my ploys are toppling down upon me as if they were an avalanche and that stupid coin from the very beginning, was the very thing which had flicked down the loose ice.

Kylo Ren sees it too, but he only crushes it with his heel as he makes his way over. I don't move, it is as if he is trapping me with his cold gaze and silencing the world to a minimal as he pulls me with his gravitational magnitude. The silence was like a gaping void, needing to be filled with sounds, words, anything to distract myself from my shaking breaths. The silence was poisonous in its nothingness, cruelly underscoring from how divergent today had truely become so deadly.

Kylo Ren never even took his eyes away from me, and just when he was barely a foot away from me, I took three steps back. Dark brown eyes studied my frame and I was certain they didn't miss the way my hands no longer shook or trembled in the way they always would when he was near. 

Kylo hovered right there, quite soundless for so long, simply staring me down with a dark stare as if behind those eyes, he was intricately planning on what to do to me as hundreds of rebels all spread around us as if we were an island in the waves. 

He shook his head, scoffing, and upon the expression on his face, I cannot believe that I ever felt safe in his arms. No longer do I mourn my own death, for I refuse to let _him_ be the one to bury my soul in the grounds with all of my people. 

"You have nowhere else to go," He muttered to me, "You either die here, or die in the hands of the Order on another day."

Kylo Ren seems to have a choice to make, as I have many as well. He could easily kill me as he had done so with millions without mercy, but so far, he was yet to ignite his lightsaber again, which kept me somehow standing tall before him. I won't let him view me as weakened. He had seen me vulnerable in many circumstances, and that was how he gained power over me.

My eyes meet his, the hatred ever present. For a suspended moment, he pauses, registering my hidden vexation, but forcing a growl to cover his hesitance. I assumed that his hand was initially reaching for his saber by his belt, but to my surprise he only extends his hand to me, in the same way that the Prince had upon the balcony. 

His chin tilts, and his dark eyes settle upon me. I fight the urge to fidget, to flee, and my fingernails cut into the soft, delicate skin of my palms as he studies my face.

"Come with me," Kylo Ren said, "Or perish with the rest of the rioting scum."

My eyes fell on the hand that was outstretched towards me. My heart is still racing behind the futile cage within my chest and his words only twisted and burned around each bone in my body. To take his hand, is to only agree to a future of more pain and carnage. To leave Jorkhan with him and live today, is to only die tomorrow. 

_Scum._

I laughed, my own blood sinking between my teeth.

He scowled, his gloved hand etching closer back to his crimson lightsaber.

My nerves clung to me like a poisonous cloud that at any moment could choke the life from me, as I ignorantly stand in the predator's direct path. I can hear my heartbeat in my own ears and my mouth goes incredibly dry. But then, that once poisonous silence morphs into a low groan of gears as the first Resistance ship suddenly flies above the peaks of the castle and across the land.

Blasters all halted in their shots upon the people, and the StormTroopers who lined the crossing at the top of the opened gates, all began to aim at the structured metal of the distant ship. 

I was faintly aware of the sound of a distant series of explosions, though I couldn't focus on anything but the buzzing sound in my head as my eyes follow the symbol upon the bottom of the aircraft. 

Kylo Ren growled beneath his breath, and he turned his face up to the darkened sky as well. The air was still rotten with burning embers and smog filled every inch of breath, but with the gush of wind coming from the aircraft, the smoke cleared and I stared in disbelief as the dark apprentice jeered at the resulting chaos and cheers. 

The Resistance have given hope to not only the people of Jorkhan, but now also myself. That ship was my way out, I cannot let Prince Dayvis die in vain, no matter who he previously portrayed himself to be... I turned around on my heel swiftly, and run through those opened gates.

My chest tightened and my eyes cut away from the swarm of the rebels for a moment and back to Kylo Ren. To my surprise, Kylo Ren doesn't stop me but instead he stands in his place with that smirk still sly upon his lips. 

Even with the viscous roar of the rebellion still flooding into the kingdom strong, I could hear that cruel voice coming from the man I once thought I perhaps loved, it was as if he was whispering in my ear, sitting upon my shoulder – It didn't matter how much distance I gained between him and I, he still had his dark eyes upon me and his claws buried into my mind.

"Always running from the battle and never towards it." Kylo Ren said above the destruction, in that voice, a voice I knew so well, which had once spoken of imitated understanding and trust, only to find out all he gave was lies as he too wore a mask over his perpetual vow to kill all that would come between his desire to take over Jorkhan. 

My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes, but I only kept running and running. I felt like I was squeezing through gaps of stone and bricks as I pushed my way through the many bodies, and only when I disappeared into the crowd, is when I heard the breath of Kylo Ren, for what I hope to be, the last time ever.

But his shouts in my ears and the echoing in my mind, told me differently. 

"– I'll be seeing _you_ again!"

Tears were streaming down my face, and I could taste the tang of liberty as I finally pushed my way through the claustrophobic and sweaty crowd, and only kept sprinting below the flying aircraft. 

The shadow of the ship was hovering above me. I raced down the cobblestone roads that curled around the kingdom, which is now falling to rubble and the top of the peaking towers are covered in hot flames. 

Blaster strikes danced and soared through the billowing smog, but instead of dodging them, they just seemed to miss me entirely as if the Universe was finally on my side, and had decided that my death was not in its intention. 

Shouts vibrated the grounds as hundreds of people fell left and right with wounds scarring their skin and even sucking the life right out of them. 

Brave women and men, dived into the heart of the kingdom and swooped into the homes of the wealthy and elite, who only hid behind locked doors and prayed that the Order would take them in.

StormTroopers were everywhere, but most were battling the fists and bricks of the slums. Some white-armoured soldiers were crumpling into the cobblestone paths with bashed in helmets and shattered panes, proving the humanity in the fear of their eyes. 

Suddenly, the aircraft above me soared beyond, only to stop in the middle of the city and then slowly hover low above the cobblestone. The Resistance symbol is calling to me, but the reminder of Kylo Ren's words are burning in my veins like a brand of perpetual damnation and reprimand. He had extended his hand over to me, only to save my life in order to be the one to ensure I die a slow and horrible death by that very hand in the future. Nothing from Kylo Ren could be virtuous, everything he did was for wretched reasons and there's a part of me, _in which he had changed by doing this very thing,_ that knows he lives a life of imitation, only to mask his true evil to his ignorant enemies – Which he will play with before devouring as if they were food upon his golden plate, and after living a life scrounging and fighting for game, I won't just simply become one. 

I pulled at my dress so I could only run faster without tripping on my hemming. My breath was coming out as light and thin fog, forming like tendrils in the air an inch away from my bloodied face, for a split moment before disappearing. My steps were steady but quick, my boots are stable on the cobblestone which today, was painted red. 

Just as The Resistance's ship was only a few feet away, my gaze only slightly stranded left and right to scan my surroundings. Prince Dayvis was correct, the majority of people no longer surrounded the edge of the kingdom which met the streets of town, all because the swarms were still charging to the palace or vandalising the strip of houses and stores in the city. 

Jorkhan was no longer a home for all, but it was a place of havoc. My heart aches for the loss, but I can only mourn for the defeated souls who began to fight bravely for the first time ever, but it seems they began to resist, too late. I can only hope that if I manage to leave this place, I live with freedom kindly and peacefully, for those who never even had a chance of getting out. 

The streets are lined with corpses of both rich and poor but their wealth no longer determines the detriment of their worth. I can hear a little voice sobbing, from the piles and amongst the rubble and broken bricks of a crumpled home – A small child is rummaging and picking through the dirt for the mother in which she calls for. My heartbeat wrings in my chest like a damp rag. The little girl is no older than five, maybe younger. She's obviously a child of the slums, with her body clearly starving beneath the slick of blood and dust – But how she had gotten here, is unknown unless she had trampled through the legs of thousands.

She didn't deserve to be here, in the middle of battle with corpses lining her path, but she was because harmony isn't something given as a gift to life, it is something that is fought for – And it seems that the person she sobs for, is the one that paid the ultimate price for trying to give her child a fair future.

In the smog and departing sun, her eyes showed the true colours of war, through the glaze of salty tears and snot – The young girl almost looked as dead as the woman beneath her boney feet, and in a split second of culpability, she reminded me of myself, both younger and now. 

A horn sounded close to me coming from the aircraft, making my steps finally stumble slightly, and as I collected my pace once more, I held my hands to my ribcage just to feel the presence of my erratic heart beneath it – I may have lost myself behind those palace walls, but I still escaped somehow alive. My heartbeat was a reminder of my true freedom, as bodies lay limp all across the cobblestone. It may no longer be the heart in which I was dragged into the royal home with, but it was still beating for _me._

My eye caught a glimpse of the red paint upon the aircraft and when I was finally close, I had to start throwing my weight into every kick and lunge, because the roaring engine was pushing the air in wild directions powerfully. Buildings were on fire around the craft, but as a side door slid open, a flame of orange hair was all my attention focussed on. 

A pensive retreat has bestowed upon my thudding heart, just as a certain hush is settled in my ears. In the midst of another strike of shock, I can only feel the silence of my mind spread across my body like blood, and then flood all across the rioting city, in which will only become ash in my boots in a short amount of time. 

A sound escapes me, but it is only muffled by the aircraft and the echoes of the riots surrounding. My pitch of fright, sounds like the gurgle of pain from beneath water as lungs fill with a cold liquid instead of air, and begins to slowly burst and die. 

I search her eyes for any glimpses of hatred or betrayal, but there wasn't even a speck of dirt upon the white of her freckled face, which proves that she hadn't even been taken to the orchards after I had sentenced her a future of nothing – For that's all I ever had when I was a slum girl, nothing. Ruby Mayse looks the same as she always did, composed, skin glowing, hair vibrant and eyes serious. The only stark difference was there was no longer the golden pins of the royal allegiance upon her chest, just as there was no longer a kingdom for her to loyally submit to. 

My previous suspicious must have been true – Her and Prince Dayvis knew all along, that there was no point to the fight, so they decided to imitate allegiance in order to hide the acts of kneeling to The Resistance for a chance of emancipation.

Just like Kylo Ren had, she reaches her right hand out to me, as her left holds onto the side of The Resistance's ship in which she will escape Jorkhan in. 

"What are you waiting for? Get in, we have room for one more!" She shakes her head frantically and waves her hand over to me, voice high pitched and shouting above the roar of the engine, "Come, we can get away from this war before it's too late!"

Jorkhan is doomed, but the people of it are not going down without a fight. I am a witness to the vision of brutality and savage natures. Fire rains from the sky and embers cascade upon the grounds of the world, bathing the smoke with crimson lights on their fluttering way down.

I stand in my place, unsure of what to do and that's the most terrifying part of it all – I should want to get on that aircraft, there should be no apprehension weighing my bones down like dried cement, and yet, here I am unmoving. Ruby's outstretched fingers are long with the grasp of freedom, but I doubt she has ever desired it as much as I had. 

She opens her mouth to bark another order at me, like she often would, but suddenly, her words fall limp, her mouth parts and her eyes widen on something above my head. 

I furrow my brows and turn around to meet the horrific sight, in which burned in the irises of her icy eyes. 

My blood immediately runs cold. My fingers curl into my palms, more blood sinking beneath my nails in the way berries from the orchard's used to stain my fingertips sweetly. 

_The King –_ Formally Prince Dayvis, hangs from the side of the palace walls with a noose tightly wrapped around his neck and blood dripping with tantalisation upon the heads of the people of Jorkhan beneath his feet... And a couple of bricks away, right beside him, Anwar's limp body dangles with a noose also tied around his pale skin, which was once golden.

I splutter with rage at the traumatic symbol of victory to come, but no tears fall. 

It was a proving of cruelty and triumph to come over the people of Jorkhan. There was a representative of the rich, being Prince Dayvis – And there was a boy _from_ and _for_ the slums, Anwar. One word is messily spread across the stone of the palace in which they hang upon, in bright, crimson, metallic, war tarnished... Blood. 

_"Scum."_

Inklings of my former self swim in the distant, wide but dead eyes of Anwar. Even though he is so far away and gone forever, I can still see the greenery of his dull orbs, which will always remind me of the lively orchards and the places in which he and I, both called home no matter how indigent the lands we walked upon were. 

Kylo Ren stands upon the balcony of the gates, where the gatekeepers of the kingdom lay dead around his feet and General Hux's, as their army of StormTroopers begin to gun down the wave of people below, who are still flooding through the gates of now, _their kingdom._

The apprentice no longer stares with those dangerously dark eyes of his, because instead, he wears a mask of heavy black – But I still feel as if, through all this distance of carnage, he is looking down upon me with that damned smirk of his upon the porcelain of his face, in which I used to let enchant my dreams, only now it will become the hauntings of my _forever_ nightmares. 

Fire burns around the edges and within the heart of Jorkhan, as finally three ships from the Order pierced through the atmosphere and begin to drop balls of death and flames upon the grounds. Bombs erupt from all around, but never to they explode from the kingdom where The First Order are letting the palace stand as a symbol of what they have now conquered. 

Birds are flying in chaotic rhythms and flows, escaping a war which seems totally inescapable as even the smoke is too dense for their wings to flap through, and choke the weakest of the bunch, which then flutter back down to the burning grounds.

Ruby is still screaming from behind me, but I am no longer listening as the heat of the world begins to lick upon the skin of my body, and scorch my veins, boiling my blood like a furious fuel for reprisal, for what Kylo Ren and his army had done to me, my home, and my dead best-friend – Who only ever wanted what everyone else in this world did, _freedom._

_"You have nowhere to go –"_ Kylo Ren had told me, and perhaps, he was telling the first truth out of a thousand of lies, because truely, I have no place in this Universe, unless it is Jorkhan – _My home._

Freedom was always out of reach, but now its right in front of me. I recall the very day in which my royal imitation had begun, and beyond all the damage, I am reminded of words spoken before all this treachery, in which I had clung onto this whole time. 

_"If I ever had the advantage of freedom, I would leave this planet in a heartbeat,"_ Anwar had said, as he passed over the slice of chocolate. 

Freedom is not just the right to do as we please, but the opportunity to do what is right.

The little girl which reminds me of myself, with her starving stomach, heavy cries of damage and dirt covered skin, still sobs from a few feet away. I swallow roughly, before seemingly making up my mind in the matter of a broken, revengeful heartbeat. 

It doesn't take long for me to usher her out of the rubble, as Ruby calls from the hovering, loud aircraft – And once the young, slum girl is cocked on my hip, I quickly make my way back over and lift her up to the door of the ship, where Ruby only looks at me with a disheveled stare. 

The girl only cries louder. 

"Take her." I say, noticing how there is barely any hint of emotion in my tone. 

I almost remind myself of Kylo Ren. 

Ruby Mayse, someone who I did not expect to see ever again – Is looking down at me, eyes then darting between the young girl who was covered in blood which wasn't her own, and then back to the crimson dried upon me, not knowing what to say. My gaze hardens the longer she stays silent amongst the bone rattling vibration of the ship which carries her and a couple of others who hide behind her thin frame and strong shoulders. 

We're stuck in a silent staring contest now, with my eyes refusing to flick away first as the young girl shakes in my outstretched hands – My mind wavers back to the day in which I trembled before the ginger girl in the same way, kneeled upon the grass which now burns into ash.

"Take her," I repeat myself, "She doesn't deserve to die."

Ruby Mayse looks away, but is still yet to grab onto the child who's life dangles right in front of her, "And you do?" She asks, low and unsteady. We had never seemed this weak in front of each-other, but in this moment, we seemed to forget about all the hostility and prejudice we once had.

I suck a sharp breath in, but my grip never loosens around the young girl, "I am not so sure what I deserve anymore," I mutter back, surprised she could hear me over the engine and the girl's cries as I watch Ruby flinch upon my next words, which she knew all too well, for they were once her own, "But – With patience in time, comes answers."

For the first time, she gives me a saddened look. She nods and takes the child from my hands.

Ruby Mayse holds the girl with a weary, unsure gaze and her fingers are yet to curl around her bony shoulders, ensuring her a place of safety upon the surface of the hovering aircraft. It is almost as if she glances to me, secretly asking if I am sure, yet I only acted as if I was wearing a blindfold to the question in her eyes – Because I wasn't sure. I have fought my whole life for survival and freedom, and now I am giving it away to a young girl from the slums, who was just like me, but somehow wasn't at all. 

Maybe, this was how my long lived battle for freedom was supposed to end. Some heroes fall and stand up again, and then some... Some just fall and never get back up because they know so long as they fight, the war will rage on. 

I never thought of myself as anything close to a saviour, because like so many people who had done me wrong, I was selfish and greedy, all along. It's a wild game of survival, and perhaps, I was destined to fight tragically for nothing in return.

When a larger fleet of First Order ships is slowly sinking into the atmosphere, the aircraft in which The Resistance had stolen, no longer gives me a benefit of escape as Ruby calls for them to retreat into the darkness of space... And then her, the child and the rest of escaping Resistance members, flee into the stars. 

It's just me here now. Just me, the riots of my people and Kylo Ren and his army. Both of my eyes are lit up in the flames of sovereignty and the refusal of sacrifice as Anwar still hangs limply on the walls in which the rebellion are still digging their nails into and tearing down. 

My eyes rest back upon Kylo's tall frame in the distance, as I begin to walk ever-so-slowly back into the heart of the kingdom, and his masked face only follows every step I take. I hate that I had allowed him to hold the beat of my heart in the leather death grip of his hands, and I loathe that he had pretended to caress it so delicately when I needed him to, only to treacherously squeeze the soul out of it and then hand it back to me, only for I to then throw it into the wrath of the suns. 

The Universe is a clash of black and white, light and dark. Everything done, always has an outcome no matter what – Whether that be good, or bad. And for me, I suppose only time would tell if my destiny was to be bestowed a righteous ending.

A person who lives a privileged life of liberty, is someone who understands the responsibly that comes with freedom. The fire crackles around the edges of my home, and the orchards are the last to be bombed by The First Order. My skin is burning beneath the flames in the sky and my eyes no longer push tears in the stream of my unforgiving past. 

Today, I fight with my people for my home. I fight not for freedom, but for the death of my liberty to not perish in the burning flames of vain. It doesn't matter if I have no strength to Kylo Ren's ultimate power, he is a merciless man but he had made me into a woman who carries a soul of smoke, much thicker than the air we breathe, and laced with the savagery of unforgiving.

When I lift my head up, just before walking back into the new turf of my enemies, which was once the home of my imitation – I glance back up to Kylo Ren. The flames around the palace walls are tufting and waving me a goodbye in a gentle way, which makes me think that this is finally the end, but in the heated breeze of the war, I know one thing for certain as I smile back up to his emotionless mask. 

All along and throughout my royal imitation, I have never surrendered. 

Never in my life have I given up a fight, and today will be no different. I may die by Kylo Ren's hand, but I would rather that, than take it with my own. 

I have nothing left to lose, and that must be the true honour of freedom. I am no longer a leader, I am just a face in the crowd. I am no symbol of war, but I am the opposing army...

_And I will fight with the people of my home, until there is no land to fight for._


End file.
